


breathing underwater

by fated_addiction



Category: K-pop, Korean Actor RPF, Mamamoo, Real Person Fiction, So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation, f(x), 소녀시대 | Girls' Generation | SNSD
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Eventual Romance, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-28 18:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13276884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: “You’re back.”There's a reason why everyone leaves. Unfortunately, Jessica's never been one to listen.





	1. winter

**Author's Note:**

> For K.
> 
> As always, my partner in crime. Lmao, literally.

-

 

 

 

 

“You’re back.”

There is a hairline crack in Jessica’s sunglasses. On the inside. It catches her at eye level, in direct line with her phone and inbox screen. It bothers her; it’s stupid. It’s just that it’s present and the first thing she noticed as soon as she got off the plane.

“I am,” she says. With a frown too. “For a few days - I’m consulting. Then I’m meeting Irene in Vietnam. We haven’t had a vacation together in months.”

Over her head, airport signs start to shout her arrival. _Welcome to Incheon!_ Her headphones sit snug in her ears. Her sister sighs and her name flickers against her phone screen briefly.

“Why’d you text me?”

Soojung snorts. “Copies of my wedding announcements. I hate them.”

“Amber told me.” Jessica laughs a little. Squints and finds the elevator. The suitcase in her free hand feels like dead weight. “She also said that you and Jongdae-ssi are going to elope.”

“Ugh. She has a big mouth.”

“Mom’s going to _kill_ you.” Jessica blinks. Then smirks. “Is that why you asked if I was really coming?”

“Duh.” Her sister laughs too. “Someone needs to protect me. And since you’re the law or whatever.”

Jessica passes a large set of television. Propped up by arrival announcements and directions to other gates. She stops. Studies the headlines.

It’s a feeling, she thinks. Then trains her gaze on her emails. Consultation request! Her eyes glaze over and she sighs into becoming serious again. She’s read the email twice. Memorized the contents. Split them into bullet points too.

Across from her, one of the televisions erupts into a scene. First it’s the crime tape. It flickers and sways. She imagines a really despondent voiceover. Careful editing. She counts in her head; it’s only a few seconds and the picture of the missing girl appears on screen as a school photo.

"I'll try my best."

Soojung sighs. Jessica blinks again and hears herself.

"I'll try my best," she says again. Maybe means it. Pulls herself up to stand straighter. When her shoulders set, she sees her escort in the reflection of the television. He has a sign. "Mom's really scary," she adds.

"True," Soojung replies.

Jessica's gaze travels over the outline of her name in the man's hands. A sign, she thinks. Spots the badge too, tucked behind his blazer. Her face sets into a blank expression. Sharp, but steady.

"I should go." She doesn't wait for Soojung's reply, or her goodbye, keeping her gaze on the television. The picture from school fades from the screen and becomes something much more personal. The missing girl is bright, smiling, and has a fistful of balloons in one hand.

Jessica reads lips. The news presenter is sullen. Her last birthday, his mouth says. Jessica frowns. The balloons are red. There are seven of them and she counts them silently. Maybe to be sure.

Her escort blends into into the television screen again.

"Detective Jung!"

A headline scrolls across the screen. _Winter storm warning_ , it says.

All in red too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Funny story?

She became a detective. Not a doctor, much to her parents' dismay. It's the challenge, her sister always tells people. Partially true, if anything. Jessica is not someone who understands how to take the road actually traveled.

The problem then became not that she was a detective, but that she was good at it. And maybe on a much darker level, she understood people and the advantage it brought her. Using her powers for good, she thinks.

"Captain Kim speaks really highly of you."

Her escort hands her a few files at a red light. She doesn't open them. Perks up at the name.

"Captain Kim," she tries to say. Out loud even. Her mouth purses and it dries. Jessica scoffs too. "I bet she's awkward as anything when you call her that too."

"I wouldn't know," the officer driving flushes.

Jessica bites back her amusement. "I bet," she says.

There's an unsettled feeling in her stomach. It's been crawling since she received the consultation request. Help, it said. Four bodies, it said. Now, she thinks, there are five. Her brain wrangles together a picture of the new girl. Probably dead already. The snow won't help.

Her gaze turns to the window. Her eyes watch the snow as it gathers and falls. Sometimes like a sheet of white. There are flecks of red, green, sometimes gold from the cars that are straggling to move home.

"How do you know the captain?"

Jessica looks back to the front of the car. The officer looks young. Barely out of the academy. This must be his first big case, she assumes. Or maybe that's more than obvious. She's tired. She needs another coffee. It's going to be a long night and she wonders, vaguely, if the storm is more like an omen.

"A foot," the officer says.

"I'm sorry?"

The officer turns the car down a long, narrow street. There are high walls and flashing lights. They're closer to the river, Jessica thinks.

"It's going to be a foot of snow," he says. "Everybody jumped to the scene. We're trying to recover as much evidence as possible. We already have so little to go on."

Jessica bites her lip. Trains her gaze to look down. She pulls off her sunglasses and tucks it into her bag. Grabs her scarf instead. Wrapping it around her neck, she flips open one of the pages. The basics: the first three girls were found in places that have no particular links; a temple, a schoolyard, and a high-rise apartment. Families have no connection. Just a series of pets.

She reaches for her gloves.

To start, Kim Taeyeon's handwriting is just as neat as she remembers, perfectly coiled into letters like 'g' and 'e' with quiet loops and dramatic finishes. Notes are in both Korean and English, articles are covered in texts and translations too, poetry from the nineteenth century and snapshots of nearby graffiti that have seemingly no connection to each other. Everything is researched. Perfectly, actually. And it's to the point where she is already filing things away.

"You haven't changed," she murmurs. Her voice catches just slightly. The car slows to a stop.

"I'm sorry?"

Jessica looks up. Shakes her head. "Nothing," she answers. Takes the supporting identification handed to her. She stares at the photo they're using. It's an old one.

The officer smiles grimly. "They're waiting."

She nods and exits the car.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's important to know -

The last time they saw each other, there was a major storm. The city had shut down. Jessica lived in a small, open studio apartment; it was her first paycheck, the kitchen was crappy, and Taeyeon had already made _nine_ , terrible dad jokes about how the other half lives. They were both rookies; it was love.

"If you light anymore candles, you're going to burn the place down, you know." Taeyeon slid her arm around her waist. Burrowed her mouth against Jessica's neck. "Remember, there are perfectly cooked bake goods all over your kitchen. It would be offensive if they were the first to go."

"You are so _weird_."

Jessica laughed. Turned her head and pressed a kiss against the crown of Taeyeon's forehead. Dipped her fingers into her hip and leaned into her, rubbing her thumb against the edge of her lighter. It snapped to life once. Then the flame died, fizzling as the plastic wheel caught itself on some skin.

"Is this okay?" she asked quietly, meant it more, feels like she meant it more for something in her head. The words press into her throat.

Winter returned to her view in the larger, open window in front of them. Taeyeon pressed a hand underneath the hem of her shirt. Her fingers stretched into her skin and the snow answered in kind, plastering itself across the glass of the window in large, winded drops.

Taeyeon breathed. "It's perfect," she said.

Had they been anyone else, this was the kind of moment that would lend itself to years and years of getting closer together. Maybe older. Maybe wiser. Maybe that much more in love with each other too. Had they been anyone else, of course.

But the apartment was still ridiculously small, and the two of them were about to dive in, head first into whatever dark, dangerous corners they were meant to go into. With secrets, of course. Jessica kept her gun in a drawer by her bed. Taeyeon kept hers in the kitchen. It's in an old pot. One that she always pretended to use since practically lived with Jessica anyway.

It's still important to know; they were young then too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is snow in Kim Taeyeon's hair. It's as white as the sheet that covers the body; Jessica gathers herself before she looks there first.

"Detective Jung," someone greets her. Jessica looks up; Taeyeon turns. A small woman offers her hand. "Or do you prefer doctor? I don't want to be rude."

Formalities, Jessica thinks. "Whatever is easier," she says politely.

They are in an open courtyard. It's attached to three, large buildings. Immediately, it explains the mild panic that is happening around her. There are a crowd of residents on one side, some looking out of their windows. On the other side, it's a mix of television reports and more cops, mostly for the crowd control.

"The profiler is here."

It's then that she also gets a look, a bigger look at Captain Kim. Taeyeon, she tells herself.

Jessica cocks her head to the side. Studies Taeyeon as she takes a step forward. Her expression is grim. Her mouth set back as she tries to bat some snow away. Around them, the lights from the police cars get brighter. There's even a dull glow from the apartment building.

Taeyeon still seems small against the commotion. It's almost comical. 

"I didn't think you would come," Taeyeon greets. Her eyes are wide and bright. "You didn't reply to any requests..."

Jessica shrugs. She tucks her hair under a hat. Then she adjusts her identification over her jacket.

"Don't take it personally," she says. "I was getting ready to go on vacation."

"Sorry."

Jessica snorts. "Of course, you are."

Taeyeon shrugs. Motions to her to follow. It's close to a hundred steps to the body. In Jessica's head, the photo of the girl reappears in a hundred different ways: smiling brightly and that bunch of bright, red balloons. The corner is flanking the body and when Jessica stops in front of it, they kneel together, the coroner handing her a pair of gloves.

For formalities, she thinks. "Identification confirmed?" she asks.

Taeyeon sighs. "Yes." She watches Jessica snap the gloves over each wrist. "We have her parents inside."

"They live here?"

"Yes."

The coroner pulls back the sheet. It's not startling. Jessica's picture of the first four bodies seem to meld into the fifth. A pretty girl with dark hair. Her lips are blue. Her eyes are wide open. Stares at the sky with a mix of fear and amazement. With this girl, her mouth has been shaped into some kind of smile.

Jessica cocks her head to the side. She reaches forward and gently pushes the girl's hair behind her ear.

"The scene compromised?"

"Not completely," Taeyeon answers. She kneels next to Jessica too. "Everything is bare. Body's been left in the same fashion as the others. With this weird kind of tenderness... placed not thrown."

"So why did you call me -" Jessica pauses with a thought. Then her mouth starts to move, punctuating each word. "Captain. Kim."

She means it to be petty. For the first and only time, Jessica thinks too. And it's only then that Taeyeon looks at her, actually looks at her, her dark eyes swallowing what remains of the moment between them.

It's this: the shouts, the conversations around them become a dull hum. The corner says something more to her, to _them_ about the body. Something about the blood. Something more about the bruising and of course, strangulation. It's all in the files that were given to her in the car and in the emails that sit on her phone. Right next to her airline ticket to Vietnam. And, of course, Irene's email about all the places they were going to eat. Together. 

But the world stops around Kim Taeyeon, and when she looks at Jessica, it's a careless, even callous moment. Her eyes glued to Jessica and Jessica trying not recognize the sound of her heart beating in her throat.

Taeyeon is the first to look away. "You pay attention," is all she says.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There's this strange sense of ease around each other.

It's chaotic, coming back to the police station. How long has it _really_ been, she thinks. Years? Jessica blinks. Finds herself in Taeyeon's office, studying the homicide decal dragging across the glass door of the unit entrance. Taeyeon said something about getting coffee; there is a mess of files on top of her desk, waiting for them both.

"Everything seems familiar," she says out loud.

"Does it?"

Jessica blinks again. Taeyeon is standing at the door, holding two coffees. She watches her curiously.

"Snow's getting worse," she greets. Taeyeon hands her a cup. "We might be here for awhile."

Jessica shrugs. "Scene's already compromised. You got what you could."

Taeyeon nods. Steps around the desk to sit. Her name plate seems incredibly out of place when Taeyeon becomes the back drop. She's still small. Pale. The dark circles under her eyes are incredibly telling. But Jessica's never been one to point that out. Yet.

Instead, she licks her lips.

"Why did you call me?"

"I thought that much was obvious," Taeyeon replies. She leans back in her seat. It creaks. She closes her eyes briefly. "I trust you," she says simply. "And I'm way out of my range with this one. I can handle the bureaucratic bullshit."

Jessica laughs. Taeyeon looks surprised. "It's still really funny when you curse," she offers. She leans her chin over her palm. "You're like a child when you curse."

Taeyeon flushes. Turns her head. She sighs loudly. Doesn't hear herself either. Jessica studies her. The lines of Taeyeon's face seem to sag. She definitely hasn't slept, Jessica thinks. Especially since Taeyeon obsesses just as much as she does.

There's a knot in her stomach when she thinks about that too. But she ignores it. Dips forward and peers into the files. Her lips press together.

"You didn't just call me because of bureaucracy."

Taeyeon is watching her again. Jessica follows the knot in her stomach as it tightens into a second.

"We've done this before," she murmurs. Her fingers trace over the photograph. She thinks of the first few things Taeyeon said to her when she got to the scene. _Tenderness_. Jessica meets Taeyeon's gaze. "One of the last couple of cases we worked together."

"You should go see her," Taeyeon murmurs.

Jessica is quiet. Leans back into her seat again. Both of her hands wrap around her coffee. She drags her thumb over the rim. In her head, she pictures the last time she and Taeyeon really talked. It's such a funny thing to think about, but she can picture it: the couch in the apartment they shared, a year into living together; then their bed, the sheets neatly folded into each side, _hospital corners!_ , Jessica had been obsessing over minimalism in the home at that point.

And then, way back in her head, she sees a young girl. School uniform. Long, dark hair. A really bright smile. The name is between them. It churns in the air; the tension is thick, dense, and neither of them know how to really address anything. Then Taeyeon slides a file in front of her. She meets Jessica's gaze and holds it. 

Jessica can't bring herself to say anything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The institution sits on top of a hill.

It's a glorified mountaintop, could have been some kind of ski resort, or a wealthy couple's renovation project. The snow is beautiful here too. Sits, snug against a backdrop of trees, green, _green_ trees and a blue sky. It's beautiful enough to be eerie.

Jessica sits in the car with Taeyeon for a while.

They both look forward. Jessica sighs loudly, starting to tuck her hair into her jacket. She reaches for her sunglasses, her fingers tracing along the crack in the glass.

"I need a new pair," she says, out loud. Next to her, Taeyeon scoffs. But neither of them address each other.

Jessica shakes her head. Opens the car door and then shuts it behind her. When she looks up, there is a man waiting for her at the entrance. He's wrapped in a white coat, a scarf wrapped around his face. Behind her, the car is still running. There's a weird sense of reassurance in that. That she can leave at any time.

She still trudges forward, her boots sinking into the snow. She digs her bare hands into her pockets, one of her hands still wrapped around her sunglasses. When she reaches the stairs, the man nods at her. It's the only greeting that they share as he turns to lead her inside.

"It's good to see you again, Dr. Jung," he says, after.

He peels off his scarf and they walk into a dark, narrow hallway. There's a small security off at the door. A nurse sits and nods at the two of them.

Jessica stays polite. "Likewise," she says dryly. She can't remember him. But she doesn't dwell.

This is the extent of their conversation.

She follows the man further down the hallway. Thinks about Taeyeon in the car, waiting. Almost starts to laugh at the Alice in Wonderland metaphors that jump into her head. Soojung would appreciate that, she thinks too. And then make fun of her.

But there's no one other than the man escorting her, or the nurse in the front of the building around, at least that she can see. A steady sense of sadness pushes against her throat. There is another large door, but it's made up of heavy, black bars. She watches the man slide a keycard into a separate slot. Hands her a visitor's pass too.

"First room," he says, and Jessica follows his hand, to the door he points out. Her heart starts to race.

She stands outside that door for a long time. Maybe too long. Her thumb rubs against the crack in her sunglasses. Left eye, she thinks. Her nail drags against the line. It isn't straight.

Go in, she tells herself.

She reaches for the knob. It clicks when her hand turns. Everything is louder. Her heartbeat. The door as it opens. The delighted laugh that greets her on the opposite end.

It's like this:

There is a long table in front of her. Behind that table, there is a chair and in that chair, there's a woman. She sits, hands folded neatly even though they're cuffed together. The sunlight hits them with a glare, but doesn't take away from the smile that is waiting for her.

The woman laughs again. "Unnie!"

And with a long, deep breath. Jessica squares her shoulders. Her expression changes and softens into something sad.

"Seohyun," she greets.


	2. winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Often,” a professor of hers used to explain, “we see ourselves in other people. Most of the time it’s unconscious; that’s the dangerous part."_
> 
> There's a reason why everyone leaves. Unfortunately, Jessica's never been one to listen.

-

 

 

 

The first thing they teach you is to not project.

“Often,” a professor of hers used to explain, “we see ourselves in other people. Most of the time it’s unconscious; that’s the dangerous part. Remember, no one can truly be objective. The problem, unfortunately, is that it’s unavoidable. No matter how much you train. Or how hard.”

But there’s no second thing, or third thing, and most of the time, Jessica finds herself scraping to get by - the older she gets, the more determined she becomes.

On their first date, Irene asks her.

“What happened your last relationship?” And she’s blunt, bright. Maybe way too honest. When she smiles, her mouth creases slightly.

Jessica never remembers smiling. She’s curious though. Really curious. Sometimes she even blames the setting - New York, a frozen tundra of grease, smoke, and maybe the worst French fries _ever_. Irene was the prettiest then, still is now, but there is something to be said about the promise of someone new. And simple things: the way she made Jessica laugh, the way she tried to hold her hand, simple, stupid things like that.

“It was hard,” is the only thing she could say. That she remembers. “And painful,” she says too. Always.

It was heavy. For a first date.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The room is cold.

“It’s the ventilation,” Seohyun explains. She starts to rap her fingernails against the tabletop. “One of the nurses told me a pipe burst because it’s been so cold.” She _tsks_ and bares her teeth. “They should really put more money into this place,” she says too.

Jessica shakes her head. “You’d think they would.”

The large window behind Seohyun seems to swallow her. It’s the iron bars, Jessica thinks. As if anyone could really escape this place.

“How are you?” She asks quietly. Means it too.

Seohyun sobers. It’s a complete transformation: her mouth slides into a frown, her expression darkens, and when she sighs, it ages her a little bit.

“I haven’t murdered anyone,” Seohyun replies. Her hands fold in front of her. They’re still incredibly elegant. “If that’s what you’re asking, unnie.”

Jessica shakes her head. “I didn’t come to fight,” she says.

“No,” Seohyun agrees. “But you came.”

She turns her head. The window frames her again. Her hair seems darker, sweeping against her shoulder as the furrow in her brow deepens. Seohyun has always been serious. Startlingly so.

A memory hits her this way. Strange, really. How it creeps up and Jessica’s eyes immediately drop to Seohyun’s fingers, the way the flicker in air, then again, onto the tabletop. For the piano, she remembers. Seohyun used to play the piano.

Besides, the last time they were in front of each other was when she had handcuffs around her wrist. When they were tight and cutting into her skin. When she was still in a school uniform and there was blood everywhere, caked down and around her legs too. Jessica swallows and remembers. It’s so horribly tangible. Now, here. It feels like a panic attack. She hasn’t had one in such a long time.

“I have a case,” she says. Breathe in, breathe out. “It’s why I came…” She tastes the word, “ _back_.”

Seohyun perks up.

“It’s similar...” Jessica finds herself careful. “It’s similar enough.”

“To me?”

Seohyun laughs. It’s soft at first; then it’s louder, sharp, almost delighted. She leans in, over her palm.

“Seriously.”

Jessica nods. “I haven’t said anything yet,” she admits. She studies Seohyun’s expression. It’s bright again.

“But you should say something,” Seohyun charges. “It would be irresponsible of not to. Another me running around? It’s a little insulting that _they_ could even begin to be.”

There is a file in the car with Taeyeon. Jessica left it behind on purpose. Refuses to acknowledge them both in this moment anyway.

She straightens then. Tucks her hair behind her ears. Meets Seohyun’s gaze with her own: poised, light, and all on the surface.

“Do you have any admirers, Seohyunnie?”

The younger woman is coy and amused.

“Me?” Her hand presses to her chest. “Admirers?”

Jessica smiles back. “Please be honest with me,” she says quietly. She isn’t asking either. She mirrors Seohyun, propping her chin into her palm. “I haven’t slept yet,” she says too. “And that’s not good for anyone.”

“You should really sleep, unnie,” Seohyun admonishes.

“Seohyun-ah.”

The temperature in the room drops. Seohyun is still smiling. It makes Jessica feel a little like Alice, dropping back into Wonderland. A little older, a little wiser. Staring right into the face of the Cheshire Cat, not the Queen; with the cat being the enemy all along.

“Bring me the pictures.”

Seohyun stands. Her arms drop in front of her, the cuffs glittering against the light from the window. She towers over Jessica and then moves to a separate entrance. She knocks on the door. It’s a cue.

“Bring me the pictures and I’ll be able to let you know,” Seohyun repeats.

Jessica doesn’t trust herself to say anything. Her stomach knots together. She’s breathing; the room feels tight and claustrophobic.

Seohyun hasn’t stop smiling. “I’ve always wanted to teach,” she says.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the car, Taeyeon hands her a pair of gloves.

“You forgot them.”

Jessica stares at them. Her hands are trembling and she buckles her seatbelt before she takes them. “They’re not mine,” she says.

The gloves still slide onto her hands. They’re tight and strangle her fingers. Her throat feels dry and she gropes for an imaginary water bottle.

“We’re going to stay around here overnight.”

Jessica’s hand stops moving.

“There’s another storm coming in,” Taeyeon says. She’s annoyed; her expression is tight. “It’s dumb to drive in this area anyway.”

“That’s fine,” Jessica says. It’s not, but there’s no choice. “My bag’s still in your car, remember?”

It’s a whirlwind of twenty-four hours, barely twenty-four hours, and she knows that this drive was impossible. For both of them. Her head turns slightly and she rests it into the glass. You can do this, she tells herself. Then she reaches for her phone. Four missed calls from Irene.

“I think this is a copycat,” she says.

Taeyeon jerks the car into a stop. They both stare forward; no one is behind them.

“I’m not confirming,” Jessica murmurs. “But I have a feeling. There’s a lot of -“

“That’s a reach.”

Jessica reads the voicemail transcript. _Is it serious?_ Her mouth thins.

“I’m not confirming,” Jessica repeats. “We have five bodies. You haven’t given me all the information. It’s been twenty-four hours and I’m tired, I’m supposed to be on vacation, and there is so much damn snow.”

Her hands are shaking again. She’s angry and it feels abrupt. Maybe she’s been angry all this time.

Taeyeon turns to look at her. She sighs. Turns the keys in the ignition off. In the passenger window, Jessica spots the institution. Now a small house. She tries and remembers how close the nearest village is. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes away.

“I haven’t seen her in years.”

It feels like an admission. The wind picks up and hits the car. It shudders.

“Why did you call me?” Jessica asks. “If you haven’t seen her -“

She stops. It dawns in her. Her mouth opens. Then it closes. Then it opens again.

“You think it’s a copycat.”

Taeyeon looks down. Her hands rest against her steering wheel. They’re bare.

“You called me because you think it’s a copycat and you wanted confirmation. You brought me here for just that.”

“No,” Taeyeon says. “Not for that. Not for just that.” Jessica doesn’t know what to say. Taeyeon’s fingers curl into fists. “I trust you,” she says too. “Aside for everything else - I trust you. And your judgment. I just... I have a bad feeling about this.”

Jessica closes her eyes. The wind hits the glass. Her head turns and she presses it against the window.

Her voice remains even. “Don’t lie. Not to me.”

“I’m -“

“This isn’t about us. And now that I’m here, right here, there isn’t anyway -“

“I know,” Taeyeon snaps. She catches herself and then restrains herself too. 

Jessica watches the slight, change outside. Wind bustles snow over the car. When it hits, the cracks into the glass.

Taeyeon’s voice is smaller. “I know.”

Silence is much more dangerous than anything else. It doesn’t go unacknowledged between them. Every nerve in Jessica’s body tries to scream and say that she’s back in that room, in the room with Seohyun, hoping to be disappointed with the truth.

Instead, she pictures Seohyun and her smile. The strange delight she had. _I’ve always wanted to teach._

“You have to start from the beginning.” Jessica doesn’t recognize the sound of her own voice. “You can’t leave anything out. Original detectives. First suspects - even the accidental ones.”

“She killed those girls, Sooyeon.”

Jessica meets Taeyeon’s gaze. Taeyeon turns the car back on. Everything comes to life again.

“I know.” Jessica ignores her name. “I remember. I was there.”

Taeyeon shakes her head. “That’s not what I meant,” she says.

It’s as far as they get. For now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The truth?

The truth is complicated.

(Isn’t it always?)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The inn room has a tiny bathroom.

There are two files, one from ten years ago, one for the last year; the mess of newspaper clippings is almost too overwhelming, coupled with scene photos and analysis - it just feels impossible, now with the idea that they both think all of this is connected. Somehow. And that’s to simplify it, she thinks.

“I’m not going to ask why you carry painter’s tape in your bag,” Jessica mutters.

She stands to one side of the bathroom. Taeyeon occupies the other, stretching over the sink to place photos of the latest victims in order. There’s a sense of unease as each photo goes up and how they correspond with the photos from ten years ago. The progression becomes incredible graphic; Seohyun’s work is much neater, from the large, clean gash across each victim’s throat and the contrasting, shaped smile into each of their mouths.

“It’s identical,” Taeyeon breathes. She still wears her jacket. There is tape stuck to her fingers and she peels it off and on, biting her lip. “Down to the smile,” she adds.

Jessica shakes her head. “You’re only looking at it on the surface,” she says. “Usually copycats hovering between a homage to the original or it’s something a little darker… and the killer is looking for attention.”

“You can’t argue -“

“Seohyun took her time.” Jessica picks up the roll of painter’s tape. Her nail slides underneath a piece. “You can’t change that. Or alter that. Or even replicate it. Seohyun took her time. She was careful about her choices.”

Taeyeon turns her head. Her expression crumbles. “I -“ She exhales. “It’s still really hard to hear,” she mutters.

“And you don’t think it is for me?”

Life is about circles. Unfortunately, as much as people try and avoid them, it still happens. Jessica feels her hands clench. She nearly drops the roll of tape.

“I loved her too,” she murmurs. “What Seohyun did... it broke all of us. Not just you. Not just me. Neither of us have a monopoly on that. Don’t forget that.”

Taeyeon says nothing. Can’t. There isn’t much to say without rehashing the years of pent up _everything_. This is why she should have said no. Sorry. It’s too much.

But Jessica has never been that person.

She turns, stares straight ahead at the finished wall. Ten, mirroring victims. Seohyun’s work is clear. It’s distinct; her first, real foray into her own profession. And how close to home it really was.

She breathes. “I’m sorry.” She’s thankful that the mirror is covered and she can’t see Taeyeon’s face. “I knew I’d be back eventually... just not this way.”

“You can’t predict the future,” Taeyeon murmurs. “I mean,” she snorts. Almost laughs. “Sure, here. There are patterns. Certain behaviors are predictable. But predicting the future? You can’t.”

Jessica shakes her head. “Sure. But I can think about it.”

She closes her eyes. Then she opens them. Rolls her shoulders. Peels her jacket off and tosses it over the edge of small, misplaced tub. The photographs loom. The glossy shots are almost iridescent. Her hands drop to her hips.

It’s time to work, she thinks.

Jessica leaves it at that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The troubling part -

Seohyun was, _is_ brilliant.

Jessica remembers. After the arrest, between the accusing screams of her parents, between Taeyeon unable to look at her, that was the only thing left. She’s brilliant. Calculating. Manipulative. All things that were a reality, that could be applied to them all, and something that she still has trouble thinking about. When she decides to be honest.

But Seohyun changed everything. Forever imprinted in Jessica’s brain.

“I did this, unnie,” she had said. Still in her school uniform. Perfectly creased, down to the pleats of her skirt. Her smile was sharp. “I did this. After the first one, I was curious if I could feel that way again. And if anyone would listen to me.”

It’s loaded. At the point of her arrest, there were only three known bodies. Three girls. No addressing similarities. Taeyeon hadn’t been home in days; Jessica slept in her office.

Jessica sometimes still hears herself.

“I would have listened,” she said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Did she say anything?"

Taeyeon is sitting on the edge of the tub. Their jackets are in a pile now.

"Seohyun?" Jessica wraps her hands around her tea. The old woman who owns the inn brought them dinner. "No," she says. "She wants to see the photos. But I don't want to do that yet."

Taeyeon looks up. She frowns.

"Why?"

Jessica leans against the sink. "Serial killers one- _oh_ -one," she says dryly.

"You're not funny," Taeyeon mutters, looks away and grins. Her hair sweeps over her eyes. She's grinning, but it's tired, really tired, and Jessica remembers she's literally had months of this conversation before her, over her, and everything else that she is or isn't telling her.

Jessica presses her hand to her face. She rubs her eyes.

"Five bodies," she says, out loud. "Five bodies. Five girls. Five names. Different locations. Different ages.”

She studies a map. Taeyeon’s handwriting scratches into the crease. Notes about degrees, fields, corners. Names. There needs to be a timeline. Her brain starts to pick everything apart. Names are only names. Times, weights – objective pieces of the puzzle that can always be filed away.

“Press?” She picks up a newspaper clipping. The article can’t be more than three hundred words. A footnote, she thinks. “These clippings are small.”

“Not out of control yet.” Taeyeon stretches her legs out.

“Why not -“ Jessica stops herself. “Sooyoung,” she says, “is your contact.”

Taeyeon shrugs. “She’s buying me time.”

“Shrewd,” Jessica murmurs. Maybe with some approval. She meets Taeyeon’s gaze, looking her over. “Captain’s a good look for you.”

Taeyeon chokes. “I hate you,” she mutters.

But you don’t, Jessica almost says. Can’t. And in that small, _obnoxiously_ small bathroom, the two of them come alive, in a bizarre, unsettling way. With the mess of pictures, newspaper clippings, and the old, unsteady habits, it feels right, for lack of better words. She doesn’t like how this feels. It’s startling, terrifying, and she can only hold onto her space, her only space.

“Let’s start from the beginning.”

Jessica moves to sit on the tub. She pushes the jackets with her hip, sitting close to Taeyeon.

“Do we have time?”

The question is unnecessary. They both know.

“No,” Jessica murmurs.

Taeyeon stands this time, approaches the mirror, and stares. She stands straighter, fixing her hands onto her hips. Jessica watches: her shoulders rise, they fall, they rise again and wear tension as her armor. Her tells have never not been obvious. It all comes back, not at once, but in pieces.

“I wasn’t ready.”

When Taeyeon turns to listen, Jessica looks away.

“I wasn’t ready for winter,” she says. Explains, maybe. Thinks of the heated floors. The couple’s mat. Thinks she’s seen this movie before. Jessica laughs a little. “I wanted beaches, not death.”

“I haven’t had a vacation in five years.”

Jessica snorts.

“I’m serious.” Taeyeon leans against the sink. Her hands dip against the edge. “It just hasn’t made sense to me… a vacation.”

“That’s not healthy.”

“Neither is _missing_ one.” Jessica winces. Taeyeon doesn’t apologize, meeting her gaze. “That was my fault,” she says.

Jessica twists her neck. Cracks it. Rubs the back of it to, digging her fingers along pressure points. She drags her fingers up, right against the space behind her ear, the left one, and traces a long, thin scar that sits right there. It’s coarse, coarser with age now. Sometimes she even forgets it. That it’s there.

“We thought Seohyun was a man.”

The words have a lot of age. Jessica’s tongue presses against the roof of her mouth. She picks up her jacket, draping it over her knees.

“Didn’t we,” she continues. Her other hand drops from her scar. “Because how could a school girl do something like this. To another person. To another _girl_.”

An uneasy feeling climbs into the bathroom. It’s cold, all of the sudden. Maybe it’s winter. Or the promise of snow. Against her hip, her phone shudders. She pulls it out and stares at Irene’s name and photo. She doesn’t smile, but breathes. Traces Irene’s smile with one finger. 

“Maybe we should stop thinking this is Seohyun,” she says.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Snow is an omen. A quiet one.

The man sharpens his knife on a small wheel. It’s stone; the knife screeches and panics. He’s idle though, the man, looking up lazily to the window by his sink. The skies are gray, he thinks. In another room, the television agrees. Gray skies, abnormal temperature lows. The wind will be brutal in the city.

“It’s too bad,” he says out loud. Next to his counter space, there is a muffled cry. He smiles. “I was hoping for a little bit of snow on your last day with me. It’s really beautiful to watch, you see.”

There’s a bang. Another cry. Then a moan, as the cry takes shape into something more feminine. The man spots a flash of dark hair when he stops sharpening the knife. He holds it steady, then up to the window and what little daylight is left. Perfect, he thinks.

Miles away, Seohyun frowns.


	3. wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Taeyeon is breathing heavily. Her mouth is sticky. She's sweaty and gripping the insides of her jacket pockets like a lifeline. You're dreaming, she tells herself._
> 
> There's a reason why everyone leaves. Unfortunately, Jessica's never been one to listen.

-

 

 

 

 

_It burns_.

Her eyes open. Taeyeon is breathing heavily. Her mouth is sticky. She's sweaty and gripping the insides of her jacket pockets like a lifeline. You're dreaming, she tells herself.

But it's cold. She's outside. The small inn is aways off. When she blinks, she paints it into view, unsettled against the backdrop of the sky. There are stars. It's windy. Her face feels like it's peeling. Everything is real. She tries to create a mantra for herself. She stands and her boots sink into the snow. Her socks are wet.

"Unnie."

Put one foot in front of the other. She takes a step. Then another. The last time she remembers sleepwalking was grade school. Or sometime after. Her mother was there too, thank _god_ , screaming her name before she walked out and off a roof.

"Un- _nie_ ," the voice comes again. It's husky. Warm. It's not Jessica, that much she knows. "Unnie, what are you doing?"

It feels close. This _has_ to be a dream.

"Nothing," she hears herself answer. "I'm not doing anything."

When she looks down, her hands are naked. Covered in blood. It's a sensation she never forgets: warm, sticky, wet even after it crawls into her skin. She watches it slide over her palms, tracing each line and embedding itself into her skin like its always been there.

"Don't be a liar, unnie."

A sight she has never forgotten: Seohyun, proud, pretty, _Seohyun_ , standing in front of her in a school uniform, covered in the same blood, smiling gently, always gently, as if she were patient enough to wait for the rest of them to catch up.

This Seohyun is the same, much older though, darker eyes, high shoulders, and that proud, stupid smile that makes Taeyeon ridiculously angry now. There is no shame. Still. Taeyeon opens and closes her mouth. There are words, but nothing comes out.

Seohyun laughs. "It doesn't suit you," she says.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rest stop is just outside the city. It's not one of the big ones.

Jessica disappears inside. To use the bathroom and buy coffee, she says. Or just scrolls down her phone. Taeyeon is amazed that the two of them have made it this far without snapping. Then again, there is something to be said about not sleeping for the last seventy-two hours.

They have made some headway. She's forgotten how Jessica works; she's concise and savvy, terrifyingly practical and objective where she can't be, all the while recognizing the politics they will have to travel to get the answers they need. Jessica would have made the better captain. Never wanted though. And towards the end of their relationship, it was something that Taeyeon resented her for. Not craving the same responsibility.

But all of that is for another time.

She can't sit still though. Checks her messages. Makes a couple of calls to her team. There are a couple of people she has in mind for this; for that, she's glad Jessica is here. It narrows down the scope of people that Taeyeon needs to trust.

She manages to leave the car anyway. Parks herself on top of her hood. She digs her hands into her jacket pockets, spots Jessica in the small crowd that exits out of the door. She raises a hand to wave, but then stops and looks down.

"Call your girlfriend?"

Jessica chokes and laughs. She hands Taeyeon a coffee.

"Last night," she answers.

Taeyeon blinks. "Where was I?" Her face feels hot. She hates herself for the reply.

"Asleep. In that godawful chair that kept us company in the room. I tried to wake you up, but you were out. Probably because of all the driving you did these last couple days."

"Oh. okay."

Taeyeon takes a sip from her coffee. It burns the roof of her mouth. She winces, but makes no other noise.

Jessica rolls her eyes. Sits next to her on the hood of the car. Her hands are wrapped around her own coffee. Her sunglass are perched on the tip of her nose; she's a lot more put together than Taeyeon, from the elegant, cream colored coat and leather gloves, to how her hair seems perfectly coiled and set against her shoulders.

"How long have you been dating?"

"Six months." Jessica takes another sip of her coffee. "But I'm not here for that." She's dismissive. "Let's talk about the case."

Taeyeon studies her boots. "I need a break from the dead bodies."

"You were talking in your sleep last night."

Jessica cranes her head back. It's a sunny day. The light hits and the snow is almost romantic, glittering against the cityscape in the distance. The sun also catches Jessica; it curls around her frame and makes her impossibly unreal. A fragment of Taeyeon.

"Hopefully nothing too embarrassing," she mutters.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"You don't want to talk about your relationship. So why should I talk about my sleeping habits?" Taeyeon snaps. 

Jessica doesn't flinch. "Just checking," she bites back.

She almost, _almost_ says something about the dream. Only because it was Jessica who saw Seohyun. Not her. Even though, she's been the one that has the very same dream, variations of it, haunt her since she could remember. It's not that she's never seen Seohyun. She's made it all the way to the institution, sat in the very same parking lot and waited for hours, upon hours, while her unopened suitcase sat in the very same inn room that she shared with Jessica the night before. Saying all of this meant facing it. 

But Taeyeon is the one that apologizes. Rubs her face.

"We need to work together," she says. "I need to have some that I can trust. To get through this." It hits her and she hates herself. "I can get through this if I have to, but -"

"Let's keep it to the case," Jessica says. Gently, maybe.

Taeyeon squares her shoulders back. She takes another sip of her coffee. It's a perfect out. Start driving, she tells herself. They need to be around other people. It's the smart, sensible thing to do.

"Maybe we should stay close."

"Close?" She blinks and Jessica is looking at her. Her sunglasses are off, hanging off the collar of her blouse. 

"To Seohyun."

"You think this has something to do with her?"

Jessica bites her lip. "I think it's going to come to a point where it's going to be more than just _something_ ," she answers quietly. She snorts. Rubs her eyes. "That made no sense," she corrects herself. "What I mean - I think whatever this next kill is... it's going to be about Seohyun. Whether we like it or not."

Taeyeon swallows. Her stomach sinks.

"He's talking to her," she says.

Jessica sighs. "I didn't want to call the killer a man." She meets Taeyeon's gaze. "But with the reports, the autopsies, the way each body was found and comparing it with Seohyun's - he's answering with brute strength. Maybe to challenge her." Jessica sighs, rubbing her eyes. "I don't know."

You're exhausted, Taeyeon wants to reply. It would be the right thing to say. Then again, the right thing to say around Jessica isn't something she's no longer privy to.

"We should get going."

Jessica nods. Pushes off the hood of the car. "You're right," she says.

The wind picks up again. There's laughter: a family runs across their path, straight onto the sidewalk. A car horn goes off in the distance. There is a truck plowing snow into a corner of the lot, pushing it over a set of spots out of the way.

Taeyeon gropes for her keys. Jessica throws away her coffee, opening the car door.

It hits her suddenly. Her throat dries.

"I'm -" 

Her stomach is in knots. The car door is still open in Jessica's hand. She looks up and meets Taeyeon's gaze. 

"I'm glad you're here," Taeyeon says. Jessica stares.

Words have a price, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sixth body is found in the city.

Taeyeon goes home. Sleeps for a few hours. Then she's woken up by her phone and a text from one of her subordinates.

_there is a new body_

"Call Dr. Jung," she says immediately, and it's hard to recognize her own voice when she says Jessica's name.

Everything else is routine: she gets dressed, scrubs her face, has a cup of coffee that she _shouldn't_ have because that equates itself to more sleep she's going to lose. She remembers her car keys, forgets her car keys, steals a protein bar on her way out and gets in the car with shaky hands because at some point, she might just go and snap. History repeats itself, she thinks.

The drive to the scene is slippery. Weather calls for freezing rain. She forgoes sirens and ends up parking a block away. Walks through closed restaurants until she comes to the flashing lights, a television crew, and a headache, meeting one of her team members halfway.

"Byul-ah," she calls, and immediately, the taller woman holds up the tape. She's grim. "How bad?" she asks too.

Moonbyul shakes her head. "It's bad," is all she says.

It takes her awhile but it finally resonates that this is behind a coffee shop. There is a younger girl off to the side, dressed in an apron and sobbing into her hands as she recounts how she found the body. Moonbyul touches her arm.

"Your doctor friend is here."

"Already?" Taeyeon is surprised.

"The police chief called her." Moonbyul shrugs. "She got here five minutes before you did. I guess she was nearby?"

It's then that she stops Jessica, kneeling by the body. Her expression is blank as the corner next to her seems to be recounting some basic details. There is another police officer holding up a white sheet to protect the body from any invasive cameras.

When Taeyeon reaches them, Jessica looks up. Her expression changes. She's sad. She's tired. Her mouth presses together.

"He's escalating," she says quietly.

The small team of people freeze around her. The rain is starting. It's a cold mist. 

"The scene's compromised already." Taeyeon nods to the coffee shop, then points around the thin alleyway. "We can't combat the weather. And do we have a time -"

"The body's been moved," the corner supplies. He pulls the sheet over the girl. Taeyeon catches a glimpse: a smile is carved into her face, just like the others, but this smile practically peels her mouth apart. It's a grisly sight and her stomach churns.

Jessica sighs.

"Was he here all this time?" Taeyeon asks.

"Maybe." Jessica stands, rubbing her eyes. "Or maybe," she says. "He's followed us back." She meets Taeyeon's gaze. "Maybe this is an answer to us getting involved again."

The thought itself is dangerous. She can't go there yet. Doesn't want to. But she also knows that it's something she can't hide from any longer. The cases are connected.

She looks away, then down to the girl and the sheet that covers her. The rain is starting to fall harder. Her face is wet. Her hair is starting to stick to her cheeks. She wonders if the girl had any chance. Knows that someone is going to have to break this news. Again.

Jessica touches the inside of her wrist. The gesture is sobering. It's small too. 

She still turns her hand. Their fingers touch briefly; Jessica's travel from her wrist to her palm, shaping into small, soothing circles. Taeyeon realizes that she's breathing heavily. That she might not be the only one that hears the sound.

"I'm not going anywhere." Jessica's voice softens. "Okay?"

"I know." Taeyeon feels her thumb move back over Jessica's hand. She stares at the corner and watches as he directs the next phase of working the scene - body removal. "I'm sorry I wasn't honest."

"I know."

Taeyeon's mouth turns. "Of course you do."

It's a small moment, a private moment, one that has no place in any of this. Here, there. In front of these people. Respect the dead, an old mentor used to say. Everything you're feeling? They're no longer entitled to. Not anymore.

But Jessica's fingers center her. Bring her back. And that grim, panicked expression that she felt herself lose to early morphs into something steadier. Placed.

Taeyeon doesn't feel guilty. Yet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The man rents a room.

"Visiting?" The front desk clerk asks him. "Anyone special?"

"Not really," he answers, grins, and realizes that the large, elaborate chandelier in the middle of the lobby is possibly a fake. Like everything and everyone else in this neighborhood.

He shifts from foot to foot. Props his chin up with one hand. He watches the attendant. An older man. Well, he thinks, older than _him_.

"So a self-care situation," the clerk approves. "Nice."

"Self-care," the man replies. Laughs loudly. "I like that!"

He pays for four days up front. Makes sure to get breakfast for each day. Breakfast is the best part, someone told him once. When he takes the key to his room though, he makes sure to wink at the clerk.

It's a short elevator ride to the seventh floor. His door is by a window, a small exposed view of the city. He watches a small group of people pass on the sidewalk below and then enters his room, whistling.

The room is dark. He turns on a bed lamp and makes room on the bed to unpack his bag. A few shirts. A new belt. There's a clean hammer and some climbing rope. To keep it interesting, he thinks.

His hand dusts off some imaginary lint on one of the shirt and then turns and gropes his hip, his fingers crawling over the small hunting knife he keeps in his jacket pocket. It's wet.

"Self-care is what I'm going to call it now," he says.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taeyeon hates her meeting with the police chief.

But it brings permission: to create a task force that she can handpick, to arm herself with more resources, and to keep Jessica nearby, especially as this heads into a place neither them like. It's still the part that she hates the most, she thinks. Being captain and dealing with the bureaucratic nonsense that comes with it. 

When she steps into the elevator, her head is pounding. She rubs her temples. Thinks things like _need to drink more water_. Because it's both impossible and obnoxiously true. She tries to focus on names. People that she's going to keep with her on this. Moonbyul, obviously. She's going to have to ask Hyoyeon in. Pull in favors with Sooyoung too. It's a small circle, of course.

Taeyeon steps off the elevator though, lost in thought. Nearly colliding with Jessica and Jessica's phone.

"Sorry -"

Jessica blinks. There is a woman on the phone screen. Her hair is bright pink. Her eyes are wide and amused.

"Hi," she greets and the connection is grainy. "You're the ex," she says too.

" _Irene_."

Taeyeon swallows. "It's been awhile," she replies. Almost defensively. She sneaks a glance at Jessica, who looks impressed, amused, and embarrassed all at once.

"Well," Irene waves her off. Almost cheerfully. "Be careful," she says to Jessica. Then looks at Taeyeon. Her expression changes, waivers into something harder. "Keep her in one piece," she says.

Then the screen goes dark.

Taeyeon is dizzy. Mostly, it's the embarrassment. She stares at Jessica. Jessica stares back and shrugs.

"Never a dull moment," she says dryly.

"Sure."

They both turn and start down the long hallway to Taeyeon's office in homicide. Their pace is shared. Speaks volumes more than anything. Taeyeon shoves her hands into her pockets. She hates how easy this is; she can't remember it being anything other than that.

Jessica is equally silent. Otherwise harder to read.

Then:

"We should bring Seohyun here."

"What?"

Jessica stops, just outside the office. She leans against the wall, her arms crossed. Her mouth purses. Then, she looks up at Taeyeon.

"We should bring Seohyun here," she repeats. "Back."

"Are you _crazy_?" Taeyeon hisses.

It hits her in more ways than one. She's dizzy. The concept crawls up and over her brain, her eyes widening as she processes exactly what Jessica is asking of her.

"There are facilities here." Jessica looks away. "If this is really about her, about what she did, having her locked away at the top of the tower in an institution in the countryside isn't going to help us. Or anyone else for that matter." Jessica tries to lighten her words. "I was supposed to be on vacation, remember?"

Taeyeon stares.

"Look," Jessica says. "I don't like it either. But I don't want to be standing over more girls. I really don't."

"You're in the wrong profession." The dryness escapes Taeyeon's voice. She's sharp and hard. Means it too.

Jessica barely bats an eye.

"Yeah, well. Too late, I guess."

If there was a time to explode, it would be then. It's surreal; she imagines herself snapping, then, there, at Jessica. Screaming _how can you be this way?_ into her face. Even though she knows that she would never raise her voice that way. That these are the things that Jessica already knows. That they both share and equally hate themselves for. It's a weird feeling, knowing that you loved someone, that you still love someone, and hold a particular kind of violence for them too. She resents Jessica. Resents her most for leaving. That's something she's not entirely sure she's ready to handle either.

Her hand brushes her face. "I don't know."

"It's your decision," Jessica murmurs. "This is your case, ultimately. I'm here as a consultant."

"It wouldn't be -" Safe, she doesn't finish. She thinks of Seohyun. Pictures the last time she saw her and can only see her back, that bloodied school uniform. Taeyeon shudders. "I can't talk about this right now," she mutters.

She shifts and tries to move past Jessica, but Jessica reaches out and grabs her by the wrist. Her grip is taunt. Her fingers dig into her skin. She's steady, not gently, and panic pushes against Taeyeon's chest. Jessica has always exposed her, intentionally, unintentionally; it makes her dangerous, the only person that ever could unravel her.

"We're going to have to talk," Jessica tells her.

"Are we?"

Jessica's gaze is heavy-handed. Her eyes brush over her, bright and assuming. It crawls underneath Taeyeon's skin.

"Are _we_?" Taeyeon presses again.

Jessica doesn't answer or let go, her fingers sweeping against the back of Taeyeon's wrist. Her expression is hard, then unreadable, but Taeyeon can feel Jessica picking her apart, one by one. She can't run. She knows she can't run. 

"We are." Jessica smiles. Maybe sadly. But her mouth relaxes and Taeyeon can’t tell. Jessica sighs too. "We won't be able avoid it for much longer.”

For now, Jessica lets go.

Taeyeon hates her for it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seohyun sits by the window.

Her eyes follow a patch of green from the courtyard to the fence, then underneath and outside to the large, vast view of snow beyond the institution grounds. She smiles a little. Hums too. It's a good day today, she thinks.

"They told me someone sent roses again," she says, turning finally to greet her doctor. "Long, large stems. Red, I think."

"You know we can't give those to you, Seohyun-ah."

Seohyun rolls her eyes and laughs. "Of course, I know," she replies. "Everybody thinks the thorns are the deadliest part, but I could probably just stab you with the stem if I used it right."

The doctor sighs. "Seohyun."

She turns and sits on the table by her bed, draping her legs over the side. She swings them like a child. Sometimes, if the time is right, she lets herself have those little moments. After all, she can only see the outside from the window in her room and the offices where she has her sessions.

Her mouth curls. She turns her head to the window, studying the snow.

"Just an observation," she says.


	4. wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Breakfast is breakfast._
> 
> There's a reason why everyone leaves. Unfortunately, Jessica's never been one to listen.

-

 

Breakfast is _breakfast_.

The man picks up his fork and holds it out. His waitress comes into view, in between the prongs. He smiles and thinks about taking the fork to her jugular. 

"Thank you," the waitress says.

He nods. Puts his fork down. He leaves at tip; she's an afterthought and people would miss her. When he stands though, he scans the room. There aren't that many people here for breakfast. A couple in the corner. A man on his laptop. There is a group of girls occupying another corner with tea, none of them grabbing interest.

Maybe a walk later will help, he thinks. He turns, grabbing his paper. He adjusts his glasses as he starts to walk.

" _Ooof!_ "

A sharp, sheering pain hits his shoulder. His paper is on the floor now and his ears are ringing with apologies. He bends over, then down to pick up the rest of his things.

"I'm so sorry," a woman's voice apologizes, "I'm not usually this bad in the morning - are you okay?"

"Yes," he nearly snaps. Looks up. "I -"

The woman in front of him is beautiful. Startling so. Long, brown hair falling against her shoulders. She's wearing a turtleneck, but his mouth dries and he spots the curve of her throat when she shifts, her hands full of the rest of the things.

"It's okay," he says gently. "It's early for me too."

She grins. "Glad you understand," she says. She hands him his paper and a pair of gloves. "Here," she says. "I -"

"Unnie!" Someone from behind him calls out. "Jessica-unnie!"

The woman - _Jessica_ , he corrects himself, waves to a taller companion. He doesn't look. He's not interested.

"Sorry about that," Jessica says again. Gently touches his wrist too.

It startles him again, but he finds himself nodding, smiling even as she turns and carefully walks past him. She tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear. She is not his type, he thinks. Looks down at the table he stands next to. The fork glitters against the sunlight, the silver combative in nature. He looks at the knife and then a spoon and then shakes his head. Too commonplace, he thinks. Jessica disappears around a corner.

He only knows how to watch her go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"So... did you sleep with her yet?"

Taeyeon jerks her head up. Stares at Hyoyeon, who has decided to perch herself right on the edge of her desk, gripping a file. Hyoyeon is clearly amused; it's a tell that she's been there for awhile. In this room, Jessica's return is an open secret.

There are files open all over her desk. If Hyoyeon sees any of them, she says nothing. But Seohyun's picture is there, quiet and underneath a couple of stacks. It's her school picture and she's smiling. It's frightening to think that this part of Seohyun hasn't changed. For different reasons.

"Stop," Taeyeon mutters. "I don't want to talk about that right now - how long have you been here?"

Hyoyeon shrugs, tossing the file onto the desk. She takes both hands, pulling her hair back with a pen. Her expression changes into something more serious but the slight curl of her mouth still ever present.

"Long enough," she answers. Then as an afterthought, " _Boss._ "

"It's not funny."

Hyoyeon still dismisses her. "Wasn't trying to be." Leaning over the desk, she opens the file. It reveals a scene summary. She drops her finger on the paper. "Same unidentified male profiles, managed to identified the victim and call her family - it was sloppier this time." Hyoyeon leans back. "Different from the other times."

Taeyeon nods. Rubs her face with a hand. She checks her watch. Jessica isn't here yet. 

"I'm not the profiler," Hyoyeon adds.

"You're not the profiler," Taeyeon agrees.

"But it's a new knife. Or at least, it's a different kind of blade. Serrated." Hyoyeon pauses. Grimaces too. "It explains the cuts, at least. And the intensity."

Taeyeon stays quiet.

Hyoyeon is an old friend. Longest friend actually, she corrects herself. If she counts who still is around in the department. She studies the other woman. She was around for Seohyun. Incredible shot. Proficient field worker. But Seohyun changed a lot of things. She changed everybody.

"I have a favor."

The decision happens before she even realizes it. Taeyeon studies Hyoyeon carefully, watching the other woman regard her with a mix of disinterest and that same, ever present amusement. She even yawns as she waits for Taeyeon.

"I need you to pull some old files," she says carefully.

"For this case?"

Taeyeon nods. "For this case."

If it dawns on Hyoyeon, she doesn't show it. She stands though, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Her brows furrow and she leans against the wall, waiting.

"Why?" Hyoyeon asks. It's measured; there's an edge in the question though. That she can't hide.

Taeyeon leans against her chair. She rubs her shoulder.

"Similarities are often coincidences," Hyoyeon says. She laughs sharply. "You can't think that this has anything to do with -"

"So you noticed," Taeyeon murmurs. Cuts her off.

Her heart is pounding. Hyoyeon just stops. The air tightens and feels almost suffocating. How many people knew, she wonders. Or guessed. And why hadn't they seem to bring this up -

"It's nothing personal," Hyoyeon cuts in. 

She's turned her head; vaguely, Taeyeon is aware she might have said everything out loud. Can't bring herself to care either.

"It was a bad time." Hyoyeon grits her teeth. "Everyone lost something then. Rehashing it? What good is that going to do?"

Taeyeon shakes her head. "Don't you think I thought about this?" Her mouth feels dry. "That I thought through all the angles? Do you know how hard it was to reach out? It took her two days, Hyoyeon-ah. We've been at this for _months_. She was there too."

Hyoyeon laughs. And laughs. And _laughs_. She clutches her stomach like a lifeline, half-glaring, half-drunkenly moving into swearing her off. She used to say, back when Taeyeon was first promoted, that she would have to practice respecting her title. Right now, she looks like she's just snapped.

"The two of you," Hyoyeon breathes. "Are the most fucking selfish people I know."

"Stop."

"Stop what?" Hyoyeon rolls her eyes, heads to her door. "You know that this isn't good for any of us, that rehashing all this stuff isn't going to end well at all. This case has nothing to do with _that_ case."

Nothing about this conversation is rational. Deep down, the two of them know that. Hyoyeon turns and leaves, slamming the door behind her. And Taeyeon lets her. It's the most she can do. This isn't just about her, she thinks. Her heart races a little. She looks down to the files and sneaks her fingers underneath. 

Seohyun's photo scrapes by her hands, grinning now. Taeyeon stares and swallows.

Her palms are sweaty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Memories are sharp.

Picture Seohyun. Tall, bright-eyed. _The best in class_ was usually her label, followed by classmates talking about her with a benevolent kind of awe. She's in her uniform, rubbing her hands nervously against her knees.

"Have you ever been in love with something, unnie?" She asks. Asked. _Asked_. Memories are also dreams.

"You mean someone," Taeyeon corrects gently. It's always the same response. "Or someone? I meant it as a question."

Seohyun laughs. "Or lots of someones," she retorts. "You can be in love with someones and somethings and still, the question's probably going to be the same to you."

Taeyeon remembers her head spinning. Those days, Seohyun had always been talking in riddles. Pulling herself above everyone else. Testing the waters to see how they would respond themselves. She wonders had there been signs that they missed; it's part of the grief, a therapist told her once. Fitting in the pieces that just don't go.

"Maybe I'll just ask Jessica unnie. She gets me," Seohyun says.

And on cue, Jessica appears at the frame of the door, etched in the glow of the afternoon. It had been cold and snowy that day - Taeyeon often dreams of the snow in Jessica's hair, how it framed her face, how her fingers still feel cold from pushing out, long after she wakes up.

But Seohyun is always watching her, _them_ , and that stays with her too. Dark eyes. Sharp, amused smile. The kind of smile that was swallowing secrets. Still, if it's a memory, Seohyun is reaching across the table and touching her hand.

The smile never goes away. "Thanks anyway," Seohyun sings.

She had been trying to tell them then, in the end.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's after nine when Taeyeon finds Jessica in her office.

She's in front of a white board, one that had been cleared this morning, after she left for meetings; it's covered in photos now, the very same order she had given them in that tiny inn room that they shared before. Taeyeon doesn't announce herself. Instead, she enters the room and moves to her desk, leaning against it. She crosses her arms.

It's immediate when she recognizes Seohyun's work: the first three victims were classmates, indirectly and directly, and each smile was shaped into something shy, subdued. The violence carries itself more in the wounds are their throats, their wrists and legs, as if Seohyun had been testing her methods. The problem is that it's mirrored directly in the more recent case, down to the positioning of the body of the second body they found three months ago.

"How long have you been here?" she asks finally. "I didn't see you earlier."

Jessica is wearing her glasses. They slide down her nose. She moves to start braiding her hair.

"A couple hours," Jessica answers. "I had breakfast with Soojung. I was supposed to meet with Sooyoung. But she cancelled."

"Did she call?"

"Yeah." Jessica joins her on the desk. She sighs loudly, staring at her whiteboard. A map is tucked under her arm. "She's going to drop off old article notes later. As long as we give her an exclusive."

"Did you agree to one?" Taeyeon narrows her eyes.

"That's why I told her to come. That part is _your_ problem."

Taeyeon snorts. Says nothing. Her head is starting to hurt, pressure building against her temples.

"What do you think?"

Taeyeon blinks. "What?"

Jessica meets her gaze. She looks tired, Taeyeon notes. Like honestly tired. She's a little paler. It makes her feel guilty. Jessica has tried, at least, to meet her halfway as she works with her.

"Sorry," Taeyeon murmurs. Looks away. "The murder board looks great. For a murder board," she says awkwardly.

Jessica scoffs. She doesn't press. "Moonbyul-ssi is making rounds in regards to our latest victim," she tells Taeyeon. She shifts closer, away from the edge of the desk. "I'm concerned," she admits. "This latest one is really sloppy. Or he's... excitable for some reason."

The knots in Taeyeon's stomach churn. Her palms drop and she stares at the board, her gaze moving to Seohyun's picture.

"Do you really think -" She starts, but can't finish.

Jessica doesn't press. Or say anything. In fact, the two of them sit there and stare at the board. It might be the lack of sleepy. It might be the gravity of what they've gotten into. Addressing this means addressing everything else that happened, that came with it. Taeyeon thinks of Hyoyeon's reaction.

The six bodies from Seohyun's case answer her in that respect. She stares at a few of the school photos from the other girls.

"I think the damage is done," Jessica murmurs. "People are going to react regardless. There's already outrage. We have to find answers. I don't like this any more than you do, you know."

She sighs. "I know." Her stomach shudders. "I'm sorry," she mumbles.

"Do you talk about her?"

"Seohyun?" Taeyeon isn't surprised. Jessica asks with ease. 

"Seohyun."

Taeyeon looks at her. "No," she murmurs. She meets Jessica's gaze. "I don't," she says. Then laughs sharply. "I don't even know how. Knowing what she did. Then reconciling her into the person I thought I knew. It's made it hard to trust people. To be around _certain_ people. You know that. Isn't that why you left?"

Jessica blinks. "You think that's why I left?"

"I shutdown." Taeyeon is honest. Her nails scrape against the side of the desk. "So did you," she says. "We were never the same. Long hours. Grief because it was someone that we knew."

She could go on. It feels like she's about to burst. All those years ago. The very notion of recovering from that. Her head _aches_. It's hard to even begin to reconcile where to start.

And then Jessica laughs.

Unlike Hyoyeon, Jessica laughs and the sound is softer, sad even. It's a rare, open moment and she's watching Taeyeon to the point that Taeyeon can feel the disappointment as it peels off her, digging itself deeply into her throat.

"You idiot."

Taeyeon looks away. Jessica stands. She steps towards the murder board, her fingers dragging over the photos.

"I refuse," she says quietly, "to give something that was mine to the monstrosity of what happened. Any mistakes that were made were _mine_ and _yours_. This -" She shuffles her hands between the two of them, "This doesn't belong to her. So stop. Stop giving it to her. Because I won't."

It's a dangerous declaration. It sends Taeyeon into a mental panic, something she's not ready for at all. She stares at Jessica, waiting for her to break away, to move the subject back on track, but she does nothing of the sort. Instead, she stares back.

Then Taeyeon kisses her.

Jerks forward and slides her mouth over hers. It feels like it comes out of nowhere, like she's lost control of her body. Her limbs drop and her mouth starts to move and _ohgod_ Jessica tastes exactly like she remembers.

It's a slow kiss. Her mouth is soft. Jessica's opens. Just a slightly. To sigh, maybe - there's a noise, muffled. Her hands rise and curl into Taeyeon's sweater. They tug, not push. Jessica's mouth is warm when Taeyeon slips her tongue inside. Everything seems to soften and Taeyeon's hand leans in, cupping Jessica's face. The room is spinning and she squeezes her eyes shut. It is not supposed to be like this. It can't be like this.

But it is.

A knock on the door saves them both. Jessica drops back, standing with her arm covering her mouth. She turns to face the window and Taeyeon breathes, wide-eyed and looking to the floor.

"Come in," she croaks.

Moonbyul enters. Her face is flushed with the cold and she's gripping her notes.

"We need to talk." She shrugs out of her jacket, tossing it to an empty chair. Moonbyul glares at the murder board. "I found something."

It's the rabbit hole, of course.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"The police want to talk to me."

Seohyun looks up from her book. A male nurse stands at her doorway holding a tray with her medication. Dinner, she realizes. It's a mess of pasta and vegetables. The roll looks like a brick, not a piece of bread. But the nurse pays the tray no attention and drops it haphazardly onto Seohyun's desk, pushing a napkin by the plate.

"For what?" She asks, gently placing her book by her pillow. She swings her legs off the side of her bed. "Your girlfriend again?"

The nurse frowns. "You, of course."

At that, Seohyun laughs. Her voice warms.

"Me," she says. She shakes her head. "Of course, me."

She moves to her desk. Picks up her pills. She slides them into her mouth, grabs her water and drinks from it. She makes a big, dramatic gesture of swallowing. Sticks her tongue out for the nurse to see.

He eyes her warily. "Good."

"You don't want to double check?"

He shuffles forward, cautious. Pulls his flashlight out from his pocket. It's small and white, bent at the metal clip that keeps it attached to his pocket.

"I trust you," he mutters.

He is three times the size of Seohyun. She's faster; grabs him by the elbow and twists, swinging herself behind him. She takes advantage of his surprise, slamming his face down into the dinner plate and grabbing his flashlight before he drops it.

She lets it hover over his neck. Laughs again. Her mouth brushes over his ear, while she presses her thumb into the pressure point directly against the back of his neck. Fear, she thinks, is such an easy thing to take advantage of.

"You shouldn't," she says. She makes sure he feels her smile. "You really shouldn't."

Seohyun sinks the pen light into his throat. Hard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The man finds Jessica at the hotel bar.

It's late. This is an accident. He was about to leave and then he spotted her, just like that, somewhere between a measured gesture of fate and opportunity pulling him to stop for just a second.

"Jessica, right?"

She looks up. She's just as beautiful as this morning. Seems to smile mostly out of confusion. "Do I -"

"Sorry," he says, "I ran into this morning. Literally."

"Oh!"

She laughs, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She's distracted and that makes him angry. Not at her, but whatever is distracting her. A woman like this, he think. This isn't how this should go. He remembers her expression from this morning; that is what should be immortalized.

"Sorry," she echoes. She rubs her eyes as he sits. "It's been a really long day," she admits. Her mouth twists. "I'm sorry about this morning again. I've only had a couple hours of sleep."

He shakes his head. "Something bothering you? Could I help?"

If he's too earnest, she says something. There's a change in her expression though. It becomes measured and placed. The smile returns and never waivers.

"No," she says gently. Her shoulders straighten back. "I'm a doctor," she says carefully. "One of those things."

The man smells the lie. It doesn't bother him as much as it usually does; she looks sad, impossibly sad, and in a way that he doesn't quite understand. When she turns, she reaches for her wine. He watches her bring the glass to her mouth and swallow, his eyes following the pulse at her throat.

"I'm sorry." His reply is just as careful. "Could I buy you a drink then?"

Her mouth opens. Before she replies, her name is called out. It happens so quickly; a woman appears at their side. She's smaller, sharper, and her eyes are impossibly dark, written into a seriousness that overwhelms him and makes him hate her. She returns the glare that he gives her, her hands dropping onto her hips.

"We need to go," the new woman says.

Jessica blinks. "What - wait. Why?"

The woman shakes her head. "I'll explain in the car." She's already halfway into grabbing Jessica's jacket from the barstool. "I have coffee in the car," she says too. "Moonbyul is waiting. Hyoyeon is going to meet us there."

"What if she doesn't want to go with you -" He interjects and it's clumsy. It earns a surprised look from Jessica and an arrogant, dismayed look from her companion. He's holding the sleeve of Jessica's jacket. "She's had a long day," he continues, and his eyes immediately go to Jessica's throat. Then to the fork that is peeking out from his napkin at the bar.

"You're sweet," Jessica says with measured amusement.

"Fuck _off_ ," the other woman growls. She grabs the jacket from him. Then she grabs Jessica's hand, yanking her off the stool. Jessica stumbles into the woman's side. "I'm not the type," she warns, "but I will flash my badge. Then shove it somewhere."

"She's all bark." Jessica's voice is full of laughter. There's warmth; he hates that. "Sorry again," she manages.

" _Let's go_."

Just like before, he ends up watching her disappear. This time, it's a flurry of jackets and words, Jessica talking with the other woman with jerky hand motions. She flushed and bright. He's angry and jealous. She's mine, he wants to say. I found her first, he wants to say too. But he doesn't.

He turns and takes a sip from Jessica's wine. Red. He swallows and smiles, staring at the glass. Jessica's lip print is there.

The man plans.


	5. i

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The room smells like death._
> 
> There's a reason why everyone leaves. Unfortunately, Jessica's never been one to listen.

-

 

 

 

The room smells like death.

It's a grisly scene: there is blood everywhere, dosing the walls in a mix of splatter and fingerprints; the body is resting against the small desk, bent at the waist and facedown in a stack of papers. Jessica spots the pen clip embedded in the man's throat.

The murder itself is clean. Seohyun is in her head, laughing. There is beauty in simplicity, she says. Bile rises and scratches the back of Jessica's throat, but she swallows. The man was kept to Seohyun's desk because Seohyun has never liked messes. It feels a little crazy thinking about it that way. Old habits, you know.

"She's gone."

Taeyeon stares. Jessica brushes her fingers over the mess of bed sheets instead. Her eyes are drawn to the scrubs Seohyun wore the last time she had seen her. Everything is cold.

"She's gone," and Jessica realizes it's not Taeyeon, but Moonbyul talking. The other woman leans against the frame of the door, her expression grim. "We have tapes," she continues. "She paused, waved to the cameras, and disappeared into the car. Gone in a fucking instant."

Jessica ignores her. Moves around the around. It's the only thing she can do. Her fingers scrape over the bed, through the sheets. She picks up a journal, leather-bound and empty. The body isn't important, she thinks. This is not how Seohyun works. She is meticulous. Has always been meticulous. The clues are never in the obvious.

But there is a lot of blood.

It's the smell, really. Blood wears a particular kind of smell. Mostly metallic. It buries itself too, you know. Shoves itself into your throat, your clothes, your hair, and lingers. No matter how many times you wash your hands. No matter how much perfume you cover yourself in. Blood is always there, waiting, standing as its own memory.

"This is why -"

" _Shut up_ ," Jessica hisses, cutting Taeyeon off. She holds up her hand. "I need a minute."

"We can't waste time, Dr. Jung." Taeyeon's voice is equally icy. "You know how she works."

Jessica is sharper. "And you know how _I_ work," she snaps back. "You know that Seohyun does everything with a reason, large and small. You know that the body is just a body. It's only a casualty. So let me do my job and look around the goddamn room." Her eyes flash. "You're the one that called me, remember?"

Taeyeon holds up her hands. 

Jessica turns away. Locks everyone out of her mind. She has little time, she reminds herself. The blood is just everywhere. Her eyes follow a trail from the body to the wall, tracing each childlike swipe as she pictures Seohyun dragging her fingers along the wall. There is no pattern, no direct declaration of responsibility or purpose. Seohyun is mocking the police.

She knew, Jessica thinks. She knew this was coming. There is no other explanation. Her throat feels a little tight. They weren't played; Seohyun kept her silence and waited to make a move. It's then that Jessica spots the opened chess game, the board still tucked into a box, altogether too neatly for her tastes. There are a few pieces scattered about. The queen, a couple of pawns. Behind them, there is a bird watching book and it faces a guide to stars; together, they press against a print of an inkblot.

That's what catches her.

"You can take the body," she says. Takes a step towards the print and books, picking up the ink blot with both hands. It's a frightening display, a pattern that stitches together something that looks like ribs or a spine. She taps her fingers against the glass. "The body," Jessica says, "doesn't matter in this scene."

Her gloves press into the glass. Ribs, she thinks. The print looks like a pile of bones.

Taeyeon is standing behind her. "It should matter," she murmurs.

"We can't afford to be philosophical."

"What did you find?" Taeyeon ignores her.

Jessica purses her lips together. Then she throws the glass print against the wall.

Taeyeon yelps. Somewhere behind her Moonbyul curses out; everyone is surprised. The frame and protective front shatter though, collapsing onto the floor in a mess of glass and blood. Jessica ignores all of them, taking a step forward and kneeling. She picks up the print and stares at the inkblot. Then she turns it around.

_sorry to keep you waiting_

Jessica's heart launches itself into her throat. She looks up, meeting Taeyeon's gaze.

"We need to tell people," she says quietly. "Now."

Everything has changed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The press conference is scheduled immediately.

A crowd of reporters descends onto the police station, gathering around the media room. Some people are shouting, mostly greetings and frenzied excitement at the prospect of what might be discussed. Everyone is saying the same thing, Jessica notes. The bodies are not a secret, but bodies only sell newspapers and generate viewership and site hits for so long. For once though, she is happy that no one sees her yet.

"Taeyeon is talking."

It's been close to five years since she's last talked to Choi Sooyoung, or stepped into the same room as her; the other woman is exactly how she remembers her, poised and intimidating as ever.

Jessica's mouth curls. "It's good to see you too," she says dryly.

"Don't lie." Sooyoung smirks. "It's unbecoming."

"I have manners."

Sooyoung hands her a coffee. Jessica takes it, studying the rim curiously.

" _And_ you're here personally," Jessica continues, "which means that you have a direct interest in the story now and don't tell me it's about Seohyun and the link to her old case because we all know that you would have been on this earlier if it was." She sips her coffee. "This is the part where I'm supposed to insert some sort of shark metaphor."

"Can't fool you." Sooyoung rolls her eyes. "Actually, I was wondering if I should tell you about the concealer that I use. Because those dark circles are intense and so not media friendly."

Jessica snorts.

They are both leaning against the wall. Jessica has her hands in her jacket, her fingers curling into the pockets. Sooyoung is a little more put together. Grim, if anything. But she's present.

They watch the doors to the media room swing open, then close again. Get peeks of the volume of people that are housed inside. Cameras are set in the back. Major newspapers sit in the front.

"Is it true?"

Jessica doesn't blink. "I can't answer that."

"Time is all relative," Sooyoung says. She's serious. "But anyways, say - for a hypothetical and research purposes, whatever helps you sleep at night, is it true? Is she out? Should people be worried? Should _I_?"

"You can wait five minutes."

Taeyeon appears from out of nowhere. Her face is pale. Her hair is swept back into a tight ponytail. She's changed; the dark, leather jacket she was wearing earlier has now been replaced by a blazer. She looks like a captain. Taeyeon, Jessica thinks, has always been made for this kind of leadership. It's what makes her the best; her relationships, however, are only built to house you and _other people_.

"I'll be in there soon," Taeyeon adds.

Sooyoung is unfazed. Grins and shrugs. She dismisses herself, walking into the pressroom. Taeyeon replaces her spot against the wall, even leaning into Jessica's space just a little bit closer.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"For what?"

Taeyeon swallows. "Bringing you here," she answers. "Dragging you into this. Not trusting you enough - want the list?"

"Do you really want to talk about this here?" Jessica asks, and knows full well that this is the broken record. Her shoulder presses into the wall as she turns to watch Taeyeon. "Because it's been years," she murmurs. "And like everything else, this can't be about us - look, you have to go in there. You have to put on that face and talk to the press. We have to put everything back in order. Seohyun can't be out there. We promised each other that. You and I."

Taeyeon swallows. "I know."

It should end this way. Professional distance, Jessica thinks. Be objective. Her eyes close. She can see the scene again. Practically hear Seohyun as she grunts and shoves her pen into the nurse's throat. Their first suspect, Moonbyul had told them in the car. Seohyun had killed their first and only suspect, long before they had reached him. As if all of this was apart of a grand, master plan.

"Go," she says quietly. Touches Taeyeon's wrist. Something passes between them; it's always and forever, these odd, old habits. A measure of support. The weight of what they used to be. "I'll be here," Jessica says too.

Taeyeon nods and transforms: straightens her shoulders, lifts her head, picks a spot on the wall. She hates talking in public, but she'll do it. When she takes a deep breath, it's loud and Jessica wants to reach forward. But she stops herself, tucking her hands back into her pockets.

When the media room doors open again, Taeyeon is greeted with a swarm of flashes.

Jessica remembers to breathe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The man is restless.

In his room, he has the weather on. Sunny skies! The channel always lies; conditions are still ample, he thinks. Downstairs, at the hotel bar, someone did say that there was at least a _sixty percent chance_ of some flurries.

"I really don't want to change rooms," he says.

He moves to sit on the edge of the bed. He crosses his legs. His jacket crinkles. He looks down. Laughs sharply. He wore a rain jacket today and completely forgot.

"But I haven't seen her today." He glances, barely, over his shoulder. Now the bed begins to rustle. He looks at the side and watches the bed sheets wrinkle and shuffle. "It's disappointing," he adds. "She was so close and then _poof!_ Someone had to come and take her away. The chase was killed then and there."

He pouts.

"I don't even know her name."

The man stands then. Grabs a mask from the night table. The fabric is cool and coarse, stretches directly over his face as he pulls it with one hand. He picks up a secondary mask. It's shaped into a doll: pink, blushed colored lips and lined with a mix of flowers and stars. It's ornate, desperately so. He found it at a second hand costume shop, tucked away behind volumes of opera sheet music binders and novellas. When the man puts it on, he finally greets his visitor on the bed. There is no point or purpose to the mask, mostly it conveys the illusion of survival to his victims. That he's worried that they might see his face.

When the mask is secure, he bends over the man in his bed. He flicks his fingers against his ear.

"I really hate that I don't know her name," he says. He grins wildly as the man opens his eyes. "Now though - it's time for something a little different."

On the television, Taeyeon appears on the screen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"My mother saw the press conference."

Irene's face is a welcomed sight in the empty conference room. Jessica leans her phone against her coffee cup, the coffee now cold and only resting at the halfway mark. She drops her arms against the table, resting her chin against the back of her hands.

"I'm sorry," she says, and mostly, it's out of guilt. For a lot of other things.

Irene softens. "For what? For doing your job? For seeing the worst in people and having to deal with that? Why do you have to be sorry?" Her mouth curls a little. "I got over the vacation thing, you know."

The knots in Jessica's stomach tighten. You should tell her, she thinks. Instead, her eyes dart to the side. The homicide offices are empty. All tasks have been delegated. Taeyeon is catching ten minutes of sleep in her office. Jessica couldn't walk in there anyway. The prospect of being alone with the other woman now takes on a heavier meaning.

"This is really what it's like, you know. Being with me."

"Stop it."

Jessica shakes her head. "If I'm not moody, I'm obsessed. The only person I really drop anything for is my sister." Jessica feels her throat tighten. "And I can't even see her," she says. "Because there are now two murderers loose. And she needs to be focusing on her wedding. I need her to go and do that and be normal and -"

"Take a deep breath," Irene says gently.

"You don't understand."

Jessica shifts back into her chair. It croaks and the wheels jerk. Her eyes close. She spins around in the chair. Breathe, she tells herself. Breathe. She hasn't slept since she's arrived. A couple hours here, more there. It doesn't make any of the aches in her body go away. She's exhausted and she cannot afford to be.

"This," Jessica tells her, "is the best and worst part of me. It's the ultimate high, you know. Saving someone. Connecting the dots. Stopping someone from being the worst possible moment in an innocent person's life. And then not. Then not making it there in time. In coming home and closing my eyes and seeing nothing but the people I couldn't help." She shakes her head. "I won't be able to do that to you. You don't deserve that."

Irene's expression changes. Jessica feels like her words are dropping in some sort of jumbled mess; things that only make sense to herself. All of this is true though. Extreme worries come with this job and loving someone doesn't change that. Loving the wrong person could kill you too.

"What did you do?"

Irene's voice breaks in. Jessica is startled. Stares at the phone screen.

"Don't make yourself into a liar," Irene adds. She exhales loudly and disappears from the screen. "I don't deserve that."

It doesn't matter when Irene hangs up. Jessica sits there, staring at the phone screen for a long time. In that empty office, alone and tired and wondering how they got here. How they all got here.

This is the real punishment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A seventh body appears unrelated.

This is the night after the press conference. It's Hyoyeon that stops and corners her first.

"Look," she says. "It's the same serrated blade."

Jessica has wet hair. It slinks and starts to curl at the back of her neck. She's too tired to admit that she didn't go back to the hotel and showered in the locker room instead; or that she's let her battery life drain. Just for a little bit. Instead, she pulls her hair back into a braid and takes the file.

"The cuts are the same." Jessica studies the pictures. She almost says the words: _he's escalating_. But it's neither here nor there. She thanks Hyoyeon all the same though. "Any comparisons?"

"The first body," Hyoyeon replies. She's careful. "Both with this killer's case and -"

Jessica shakes her head. "I got it." Suffer through, she thinks. Grits her teeth and manages a slight smile for Hyoyeon. She steps back. "Thanks," she adds. "I appreciate it all."

Hyoyeon doesn't wait to talk. They both hate small talk. The other woman gives up a small nod and wave to Jessica though, politely excusing herself as Jessica turns back to return to Taeyeon's office.

"Moonbyul should be back soon." Taeyeon greets, but doesn't look up from her desk. "Forensics from the shipyard were messy. I had her pull the cameras just in case."

Jessica sighs and leans against her desk, right by the set of files Taeyeon is working on. "He's sloppy now," she murmurs. "But not stupid."

Neither of them address the fact that Seohyun has once again become the elephant in the room. Between her escape and the new body, the unit is being pulled in multiple directions. The press is no longer kind enough with their space either.

"I thought you went back to the hotel."

Behind her Taeyeon's chair scrapes at the floor, screeching as she pushes herself back. Jessica turns slightly, but returns her attention to the murder board as Taeyeon stands next to her.

"I wouldn't have made it past the bar," Jessica admits. She pinches the bridge of her nose. "And I'm not in the mood."

"I get that." Taeyeon laughs awkwardly. There's a pause and she gently, hesitantly places a hand on Jessica's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

It's a loaded question. Rather, Jessica can make it into a loaded question. She can make this about them, about her and her needs, about all those reasons they really split because all those years ago. Five years is eternity, when you think about it. You no longer measure your relationship and the good things that came out of it, rather it's about the time you lost and the person you were. The past is never just the past.

"No." Jessica presses her hand into her face. She thinks about Irene. Then stops. "I'm not," she says. "I'm trying to stay on the surface, but every time - honestly, I feel like I'm a mess."

Taeyeon scoffs. "You?"

"You're you." Jessica's throat feels tight. "You're you and you'll always be you. The most important person in my life, whether we're together or not. You were someone that shaped me and kept me together in ways that I still don't understand. I loved you, you know? Loved you so much that it was so painful - it's _still_ painful to think about. Because when Seohyun happened, when she confessed, when we had to put her away, it was just me and only me to carry that."

At some point, Jessica feels herself start to cry. Not out loud. Never out loud. But her eyes are wet and blurry. She cups her mouth, closing her palm over it to muffle any sound as she forces herself to stare at the photos.

"That's not fair," Taeyeon murmurs. "And you know that."

It's not. It's also not the place for this. Taeyeon tries to catch her gaze. Her fingers touch her elbow. Jessica doesn't pull away, but doesn't look at her either. No, she thinks. Don't this.

"I didn't say it was." Jessica manages. Her voice catches. "I didn't say any of this was."

Taeyeon doesn't answer. She won't.

Seohyun's photo stares back at the two of them, watching.

Always.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is snow on her jacket.

The hotel room is cool. The bed is untouched. "You're wasting money," Seohyun says, out loud. Her fingers jerk over the sheet of the bed and she _tsks_. "Silly unnie."

It's like a game - where to look first, what to touch, what to take. She knows how particular Jessica is about her things. She also knows that Jessica appreciates the simple message; it makes her formidable. Seohyun had always hoped to teach her chess; Jessica simply didn't visit her enough. She supposes, she thinks, she has this new character to thank.

"I was hoping you'd come to shower." Seohyun stands from the bed and wanders to the closet. It's only half-full with pretty jackets and blouses. "We could have had a wonderful conversation. I do miss you."

She lets out an exaggerated sigh. This isn't why you're here, she tells herself. She digs into her jacket and pulls out a plastic bag. She removes a small knife. The blade is bloodied. Her fingers run against the tip, but take care to avoid the serrated edges. She places the knife gently onto the bed, right next to the chocolates that the maid left, the one that was kind enough to let her in.

We're sisters, she had said. The maid had smiled widely, shooing her in. I just wanted to surprise her, Seohyun had added. A nice touch.

Jessica will understand the present.


	6. i

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I think Seohyun was here," she manages. "In my room."_
> 
>  
> 
> There's a reason why everyone leaves. Unfortunately, Jessica's never been one to listen.

-

 

 

Something is different.

Jessica stands in the entrance of her hotel room, staring into the small hallway. It's too dark to see apparent things: the curved end of her bed, the glimmer of the city from the window, or the suitcase that is skewed from view, half leaning against the wall by the bed. But something is off. Quietly, she presses her fingers to the light switch. It snaps and the subtleties come to life. A jacket is caught in her closet door. Her bathroom door is opened and the shower light is on. When she glances at the mirror, some of her makeup bag has spilled around the sink. She backs out and shifts to the room, staring.

On the bed, there's a small depression. Her eyes trace the shape. It doesn't hit her immediately; her throat tightens, her palms feel sweaty, and her stomach is knotting together. When she steps forward, her fingers drop to the sheets. They're cool to the touch; the shape depression is deep enough to know that she just missed the person.

Jessica grabs her phone.

"Listen," she says, doesn't greet, and Taeyeon exhales sharply on the other line. "I think -"

The scent hits. Floral, she realizes. It's slight.

Her heart is pounding.

"I think Seohyun was here," she manages. "In my room."

Taeyeon is quiet. Jessica hears a door open and slam. She hears keys.

"Go downstairs and wait for me in the lobby," Taeyeon tells her. "You shouldn't be in there." Her voice shifts. "Please," she murmurs. "Go downstairs - I'm five minutes away. We can go back to the station."

"Okay."

It's then that she realizes her hands are shaking. The anger shoves itself into her throat. She shouldn't be like this, she tells herself. It's a combination of a lack of sleep and stress, she thinks. She sees the inherently worse in people, on more than just a daily basis; her view from here is consistent, it's excessive and heavy, all part of the job.

"Can you stay on the phone with me?" Jessica asks quietly and she moves backwards, groping her way back to the door. Her hand fumbles. She hears Taeyeon's boots scrape on the sidewalk. "Until -"

"Yeah," Taeyeon replies. "Of course." Her voice catches. “Of course, I’ll stay on the line with you.”

Neither of them know what to say to each other. Maybe because they haven't directly dealt with anything - with Seohyun, with what she did, with how they, _them_ , never coped, separately or apart. Jessica feels her eyes burn. She hates herself for becoming like this. For feeling unsettled. It’s not the way she is.

"Thank you…" She manages. In the hallway, as her room door snaps close, she claps over her mouth. She swallows back the sound that is trying to escape - a sob, a cry, or a scream. Frustration, maybe. Panic, sure. It doesn't matter. It _shouldn’t_ matter.

At least, Jessica thinks, she can keep it that to herself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The man is slow. Or she's lost her touch.

Finally though, Seohyun thinks, she has a face.

There is nothing extraordinary about him. His face is forgettable; there is a low, sliver of a scar that runs along his jaw, cutting into the side of his face as if it's been there forever. He's haughty too. There's an arch in the way he carries his shoulders. His arrogance is clear and she wonders, suspicious, what is he trying to prove.

Still, she has followed him to a coffee shop. She watches him interact with the poor girl in the front, watches as he frames himself into a series of shy mannerisms. _I'm new here_. What's a fun place to go visit? This coffee is delicious. The girl doesn't buy it; she still smiles politely, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Sorry -" Seohyun blinks. The man turns into her. Hits her shoulder. Her excuse bubbles over to hide her laugh. "Daydreaming," she offers, searching his face to see if he recognizes her.

But he doesn't. His expression still softens. "It's okay!" 

"Are you sure?" She asks politely, and she takes a napkin, brushing it nervously over an imaginary stain. "I'm really, really clumsy."

He laughs. "And pretty," he quips.

She pretends to be startled. Even flushes. Inside, she boils. Her temper sharpens. "I'm not good with compliments," she manages, watching as his eyes darken with interest. There, she thinks. There you are. "Are you sure I didn't get you?" She asks. She holds her coffee up. "Should I buy you another one to at least -"

"No, no," he insists. "It's okay."

The situation is strange. No one is recognizing her. It delights her, if anything. The police must want to keep her leave quiet; vaguely, she wonders if either Jessica or Taeyeon have a hand in any of this. It wouldn't surprise her, even after all these years.

But the man still isn't interested.

He gently detangles himself from the situation. He smiles politely. Glances back to the girl at the counter, staring as she busies herself with tasks behind the coffee bar. She glances up and drops her gaze quickly, flushing. The man smiles. Seohyun takes a step back and lets him pass.

Curious, she thinks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taeyeon keeps her office dark.

There is a light, settled against the wall, that she turns on when Jessica collapses into the couch. She stays standing; Jessica tries desperately not to snap, her nerves unfurling in her belly.

Everything is happening so slowly: this is a deliberate violation, one that she hasn't felt in a really long time. Jessica prides herself in keeping work and her personal life separate. Work stays with work. Personal is personal. But something so simple as Seohyun coming into her room, sitting on her bed, looking through her things - it terrifies her, it terrifies her in away that she hasn't felt before. That wall is broken.

"Why would she come to you?"

Jessica is startled. Looks up. Taeyeon is standing over her, watching her with an unreadable expression.

"I mean, I can process but -" Her mouth falls into a snarl. Taeyeon sighs and repeats: "Why would she come to you?"

"Why _wouldn't_ she?" Jessica feels her voice tremble. It drags against the back of her throat. Her hand covers her eyes. "I was the first one to see her, since..." Her mouth feels sharp. "Clearly she felt compelled." 

Taeyeon sighs loudly. When she sits, she's cautious, taking up the other corner of the couch with caution. "This is a mess," she says quietly. Her voice is laced with frustration. "It's spiraling out of control and all I want to do is punch a wall. The bodies are piling up."

"I think we're trying to make this more complicated."

"Yah." Taeyeon straightens. "Seohyun is a serial killer. Textbook. And she's out." Taeyeon is always on the edge of something, anger really, brimming, boiling and rising to the surface. "Damn _it_ ," she growls. "She's out."

"You're not _listening_ ," Jessica snaps back. Mostly, it's because she wants someone to be angry with. "I think that we're trying to connect dots that aren't there. Do I think there's a connection between Seohyun's case and this one? Sure. Methods are similar. Is inspired by? Okay. But we've made everything murky. Maybe this isn't as complicated as we want it to be."

"It's just as gruesome and -"

Jessica meets Taeyeon's gaze. She stops and Jessica waits. Waits for her to say something else. Her mouth opens. It closes too. Her hands are closing into fists. She trembles. Just slightly. Taeyeon has always been wound tightly; it's got worse as they've gotten older apparently. Responsibility is a killer. 

"People kill because they can." Jessica keeps her voice even, swallowing. Her head drops back against the couch. Her fists close over her eyes. "No rhyme, no reason. It just happens that way. What they're set off by. Their environment. Sometimes the factors are so impossibly small that it makes you so angry that it -" She stops and laughs. The sound tastes harsh. "Seohyun is out because she's curious," Jessica manages. "She's always been curious. I know she's out. _I know that she's dangerous_. I haven't stopped thinking about it since we went to the institution. Since I saw her the first damn time. And she went to me because..."

It's hard to finish. To reconcile the two different Seohyun's she knows now. 

Taeyeon drops her hand on her thigh. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be patronizing."

"I'm not being patronizing."

"Sure," Jessica says dryly.

"It's just that -" Taeyeon turns her head. Jessica meets her gaze. They stare at each other; Taeyeon swallows. "This isn't how I envisioned talking to you again. If anything at all," she murmurs. "It's hard to look at you and not think about being angry with you - you were the one that left, but I was the one that let you go. It's hard to look at you and not know that I _miss_ you and that I hate missing you. Because when you called me today all I could think about is what if I couldn't tell you. I know that you're in a relationship, that Irene is now -"

Guilt is undeniably a funny thing. Briefly, just briefly, Jessica thinks about her girlfriend. About how they talked and then stopped. Jessica thinks that Irene could, would make her happy. That it would be the kind of happiness that she would settle into; there would be no regrets to count with either. But this isn't how this works.

Jessica leans forward and kisses Taeyeon.

Her mouth is softer, sad, and she brushes her hand underneath Taeyeon's chin, only to stretch her fingers against her jaw. Her shoulders drop. Taeyeon reaches for her hair, linking her fingers into her ends. She tugs slightly and Jessica twists, biting at Taeyeon's lip. One of them makes a sound, a deep, desperate sound; Taeyeon jerks herself over Jessica and Jessica finds herself pressed, back flushed against the arm of the couch. Everything is moving so fast.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she breathes and _you did this_ , she tells herself too, right into Taeyeon laughing into her mouth. "We're _fucked_ ," Taeyeon says too. At the same time. The room starts to spin and Taeyeon smells soft, warm, and like every memory she's held onto.

The buttons of her shirt pop. Jessica is peeling Taeyeon's t-shirt over her head. Their belts lock; they fall apart into nervous laughter until Taeyeon's hand slides from her throat to the plane of her breasts, her mouth following in line. Heat uncurls from deep within her belly. It makes her head spin and she grasps at Taeyeon's hair, pulling light as she presses a kiss to her stomach.

"Just once," Taeyeon whispers.

"Just once," Jessica agrees. To not think about any of this. She reaches forward, her finger tracing Taeyeon's mouth, her thumb sliding across her lip. Taeyeon's eyes are dark and wide; she is just as lost as she is. Old habits die hard, she thinks.

It's not going to go away. Taeyeon finds her mouth again.

Jessica's heart stays in her throat.

(This is not a lie.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He finds a room.

He pays for it quietly. A different day, later in the night. The hotel clerk is new and with the time of day, he notices a tendency to not pay attention to clients. Celebrities require discretion, a hotel review says. It claims that the hotel is hub for secret relationships. It doesn't matter; he's comfortable and he is going to take a chance.

That is what he did with the first girl he killed. Took a chance.

They say you never forget your first kill. There is no particular memory: sometimes, his fingers become trigger-happy and cock, folding over an imaginary gun he never shot. He thinks that he would have been a terrible gunman. He likes all targets. There's no patience in liking all targets. For him though, it wasn't until he searched. Looked at stats. Honed in on the skills of others. Imagined the sensation of his fingers dragging down a throat. The feel of someone's pulse, ready to burst.

These are feelings. Not new. Things that he's honed. His first kill was messy. The knife set the wrong: the girl screamed and screamed as he carved into her. Her smile was unfit. He was going to do better than those before him.

"We will do this right," he says into the empty room. He keeps his things in his current room. "Jessica."

He smiles and imagines her. It'll be different with her, he thinks. He walks around. Opens the closet, sets the rope and knives on the floor. Finds a 'do not disturb' sign and tugs it onto the handle. This will be the last one.

For now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moonbyul passes her outside.

"Hey," she greets. Half-salutes her. Jessica smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Instead, she watches Moonbyul jog to a car and embrace another woman that gets out.

"That's her wife." Taeyeon hands her a coffee. "Wheein."

Jessica's stomach lurches. Jealous is a funny thing, after all. She purses her lips together. She takes the coffee though. Hates that she is thinking about the conversation she is going to have when she gets back to New York. There's no time for that, she tells herself.

"They look happy," Jessica still remarks. Watches Moonbyul cup Wheein's face between her hands. She kisses her forehead and her wife laughs, shoving a duffle bag and a takeout bag into her waiting hands. You see, Jessica wants to say too. People can be happy doing this job. This isn't something that is supposed to consume them.

Taeyeon doesn't answer.

They stand outside together though. The air is cooler. Jessica's nerves have quelled. The problem? She can still feel Taeyeon's mouth over her skin, against her throat, her belly - between her damn legs. Her mouth is sore; she licks her lips and imagines the teeth marks still there. What they did, it's mutually-assured destruction.

"I'm ready to profile," she murmurs, and Taeyeon nods.

They both turn and re-enter the building. Jessica shoves her hands into her jacket. She is well-aware that everyone on their team has been informed of Seohyun and her room being broken into. Jessica has convinced them that she'll move and stay with her sister. With a detail; that makes her the most irritated.

But when they return to Homicide Unit, most of Taeyeon's team is waiting. Hyoyeon eyes her curiously, but nods when she passes. It's the first time in years she's really seen her old classmate. Two other detectives crowd her desk. A man leans against the wall and there is a woman in a chair, head dropped back and eyes closed. Her fingers are tapping; she is awake.

A few minutes later, Taeyeon enters with Moonbyul.

"We'll keep this brief," she says to everyone. Nods at Jessica.

Jessica tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Moves to the murder board she reassembled; it rests against a glass divider and she drags it in front of the desk groupings. She circles the last victim's photo.

"He's here."

She turns and faces the group.

"He's incredibly arrogant. Whether this was always part of his profile or not, it's mostly apparent now. This is an opportunity; arrogance leads to mistakes. But," she stops, meeting Hyoyeon's gaze. The other woman sharpens her gaze. "But," Jessica repeats, "it also makes him really dangerous. He's going to do bolder things."

The male detective raises his hand. "You said he."

Jessica's mouth twists. "I think it's no secret that everyone in this room knows that Seo Juhyun is out and that it's a larger issue that the press is trying to connect both cases together. We've held out this long, but Seohyun -"

"Seo _Juhyun_ ," Hyoyeon snarls out.

"Kim Hyoyeon," Taeyeon snaps back.

Jessica sighs. "Seohyun," she continues, holding Hyoyeon's gaze. She feels Taeyeon shift behind her, closer. Perhaps in a show of solidarity. Probably not. "Seohyun is interested in this man because her style is being compromised." The words are gruesome. They hold a particular taste in her mouth; her stomach churns. "And frankly," Jessica adds, "this is how we're going to catch her too. She is interested because it's infringing on her. He's a thief in her eyes and she has a morality code. She always has. But mostly? She's interested because we're involved." She points to Hyoyeon. Then to herself. Finally, she jerks a hand back to Taeyeon. "I suggest that you keep that in mind too, Detective. And count your blessings since she hasn't come to see _you_."

The room is cold now. 

Jessica takes a step back. Lets Taeyeon take the front and continue the profile. Explains the situation. Her throat feels a little dry. But Taeyeon is in her element: her shoulders set back, she carries herself with a poise that Jessica hasn't seen in a very long time. And maybe, she thinks, it's that she's tired and her current emotional trek is charged with feelings that are both strange and volatile.

"- our one suspect blew up in our face."

Jessica blinks. Moonbyul has trained her gaze on her.

"We haven't had any suspects to begin with," she answers. "This is what makes this particular killer so dangerous. Yes, we could assume that he is a natural foil for Seo -" Jessica turns her gaze to Hyoyeon and flashes a dark smile. " _Juhyun_ ," she finishes. "But there are no linking factors to each of his kills. They're women: a barista, a student, a few tourists and an old woman in the countryside. He goes off pattern and kills a man. Why? Because he can. It's a challenge to us. No one else."

Moonbyul nods. "So he's baiting us."

Jessica returns the nod. "He's baiting us."

She answers a few more questions. Then Taeyeon steps in and assigns patrols to certain areas in the city, potential places he could return to. She listens quietly and then watches the team dispense, pulling back to go and grab her purse from Taeyeon's office. She needs to go get her things, she thinks. And shower at Soojung's.

"Should I drive you?"

Jessica jerks out her thoughts. Taeyeon has followed her. She ties her hair into a braid, offering a tight smile. 

"To your sister's," she finishes.

Jessica shakes her head. "No." She pulls her bag across her body. "I have the detail, remember?"

Taeyeon flashes a tight smile. They stare at each other. Jessica slides her hands under her arms and folds them into her chest. Her throat is dry. She tries not to think of anything else.

"I should go." She’s firm. “I just need to sleep.”

"I know." Taeyeon doesn't move. "But -"

"Please don't.” Jessica shrugs into her jacket. “Just let it be right now.”

Taeyeon looks away and Jessica takes the opportunity to move past her. Her hand stops on the frame of the door, her fingers curling into a fist. She squeezes her eyes shut and breathes.

"I'll let you know when I get there," Jessica offers. Breathes. She could stop and say things like, _I'll see you in the morning!_ Or, _let's talk_. But Jessica has no patience for memory lane. And she knows, deep down, if she turns and faces Taeyeon again. She might break. She might not leave either. It's devastating to understand that.

But she doesn't stay to listen to Taeyeon's reply.

It's a quick, brisk walk to step outside. It starts to snow, small flakes wisp against her face. The sky is graying; her concept of time feels non-existent right now.

Jessica feels her heart pounding in her throat. Be professional, she urges herself. See this through until the end. _You_ have no choice. It resonates with her in a way that she wasn't ready for. She rushes past the area she is supposed to be meeting her protective detail. She needs some space. To think.

The air hits face hard still. She makes it to the curb. Texts Soojung to say _coming to shower_. It gives her a measure of normal. Her heart is racing. She lifts her hand to hail a cab. One drives past her. Hits a puddle. Jessica drops and ducks back against the wall, swallowing back her nerves. It feels like a panic attack. Her hands are shaking.

"Excuse me? Are you all right?"

Jessica nearly gasps. "Give me a second." She tries to smile politely. “I just –“

The truth: she never hears it coming. A pain explodes against the back of her head, towards the top. Her hair spills and she stumbles forward. Unable to catch herself, she drops to the ground. Her knees crack and dull. Her hands slip into the road. A car door opens and slams close. Her vision blurs. She can taste blood in her mouth.

Everything goes dark.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An hour later, Seohyun walks into the police station.


	7. love me the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"If it snows," Seohyun finishes. "Death is nearby."_
> 
> There's a reason why everyone leaves. Unfortunately, Jessica's never been one to listen.

-

 

 

 

"Omens."

The interrogation room is cold. It creeps in. Seohyun sits with her back to the observation window. The only window, she thinks. Her wrists are cuffed to the table; she knows that they are watching her. The metals scratches against her skin. She isn't sore. Not yet.

"I believe in omens," she says. Her shoulders roll back. There is a crack. "They're everywhere. The people you meet and talk to. The side of the bed you wake up on - is it your right, your left, and are the sheets wrapped around your legs? For me, my luxuries are simple. I don't talk to many people. But I wake up. If I can't sleep the night, my ghosts have come back. If the sun isn't out, I understand the day will be difficult. If it rains, the day will change. And if it snows -"

The door opens. Kim Taeyeon enters the room. Seohyun breathes into a smile. A few years ago and that smile might have been genuine; here it just settles into amusement. She still understands the sanctity of amusement.

"If it snows," Seohyun finishes. "Death is nearby." 

Taeyeon is trembling. Seohyun watches and holds onto the irony: the last time she saw Taeyeon it was exactly like this, Taeyeon _trembling_ , a sad fury written into entire being. This is devastating though, this time, here. Taeyeon is in love and she can't hide from it anymore. That was true then, it stays true now. Instead, now, it holds much more weight.

"Where is she?" Taeyeon's voice is low. There's a guttural growl from the back of her throat. "Where is _she_ , Juhyun?"

Seohyun searches her face. "He kills when it snows." Her mouth twists. She hasn't hear that name in years. She no longer hides her amusement. "And here, I thought I'd have to pay a compliment to the man who supposedly decided I was the one to -"

Taeyeon lashes out. She swings an arm out, hitting a small stack of papers and a soda someone brought her. It flies into the wall with a crash, dropping to the floor. Her hands slam against the table and she pushes. It hits Seohyun in the stomach and she grits her teeth, surprised. She doesn't back down though, holding Taeyeon's gaze.

"What?" Her voice is soft. "What are you going to do?" She laughs a little. "Kill me?"

"Where is _she_?"

If guilt was in her repertoire, she would feel it. Instead, there is an intense feeling of distance, as if she were supposed to be standing somewhere else, watching herself go through this. Seohyun sits straighter. She wiggles in her seat, testing the cuffs as they press back into her wrists and drag against her skin. She wishes for a window, if anything. Maybe to greet the impending warning. Maybe not. Instead, her hair slinks away from her ear and drags back into her face.

It's cold, Seohyun thinks. "You don't have much time," she says.

That much is a promise.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Guilt. It's a terrible weight.

Taeyeon remembers -

The day Jessica left coincided with her promotion. There wasn't much to say: _I was going to lose you anyway_ would have been the only response at that point, considering how bad it was between them. Taeyeon blamed Jessica for not seeing Seohyun. Jessica let her. It's the only way they looked at the situation.

But they had sat across from each other in their kitchen, now Taeyeon's kitchen since Jessica had moved in with her sister by then, neither of them able to greet each other with some semblance of a goodbye. That's the sad part. To be together with someone for years, only to have it end in a whimper, a slow and desperate whimper.

"It's funny," Jessica had said quietly. "We didn't fight it." She met Taeyeon's gaze. Her palms pressed against the table. "After all is said and done, we didn't fight what happened. We didn't fight for each other. To me, selfishly, that is the worst part. I lost two people I loved in all of this. I might never able to forgive myself for that."

The entirety of that moment had been too much to bear too - she was flanked in sunlight, the window framing her face, coloring her in this glow that Taeyeon hated and loved at the same time. This was what it was like to love Jessica, to see her and love her so deeply that she couldn't be in the room with her anymore, to know that she was angry and that she had an equal hand in all of this, that they way through it was to say that this was the only way she could love her.

Taeyeon had said anything back.

She hasn't stopped wishing that she did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The bathroom is empty.

Taeyeon feels her ears ringing. It's a long, drawn out sound. It pushes against her temples and a headache is starting to crawl out into existence. She's breathing; just barely.

" _Fuck_."

A low hiss presses into her teeth. She grabs the sink, steadying herself over it for balance. The linoleum is cool to touch against her palms, half sticky from soap someone missed from the dispenser. Her legs feel stiff. When she meets her own gaze in the mirror, there's a mix of panic and desperation peeling away at her expression. Her dark circles are starting to sag. Her lips are parted. They feel chapped and the only thing she can think is: _I should have stopped her_.

With a swing of her fist, her hand jerks into the mirror. The glass cracks and chips into her skin, scraping her knuckles. She smells blood, then tastes it from somewhere in the back of her mouth. Bile is starting to pull at her throat.

"Sunbae."

Taeyeon doesn't respond. She heaves, a desperate growl pushing at her mouth.

"Taeyeon." It's Moonbyul. Her hand drops over her shoulder. "Let me look at your hand."

"No," Taeyeon hears herself say. "Don't. I need to feel it."

"That's stupid." Moonbyul steps around her and grabs her hand, peeling a bunch of paper towels from a dispenser. She shoves them over her knuckles. "Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to get anything done. Don't start. You're better than this."

The blood soaks into the paper towels, but it's enough of a barrier for Moonbyul to drag Taeyeon out of the bathroom and into the hall. She barks something at a rookie, then pushes Taeyeon into an empty chair as she sits beside her.

"You've always been better than this, sunbae."

Taeyeon feels her throat dry. "This has become personal again." She thinks of Seohyun in the interrogation room. "I feel myself losing any grip I've had on this."

"Don't make it personal." Moonbyul grabs a roll of bandages and gauze from the rookie that comes running back. She shoves the gauze over Taeyeon's knuckles, pushing the paper towels into the rookie's hands. "Go," she barks at the young cop. Her gaze focuses on Taeyeon. "Sunbae, we need you. Dr. Jung -"

"Jessica."

Moonbyul softens. "Jessica," she repeats, "needs you." Taeyon's ears are ringing and Moonbyul starts to bandage her hand. "You're no good to anyone like this. To her."

There are a million different things to say. A few words belong to Moonbyul - Yes, I understand. No, of course. You're _right_. Everything has a place and a place for everything. But the rest belong to Jessica. They've always belonged to Jessica and when Taeyeon squeezes her eyes shut, she stops and thinks of the other woman, the last time she touched her, _really_ touched her back in her office, and the sound of her name that came out of her mouth.

Taeyeon squeezes her eyes shut.

She breathes. Again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The man is patient.

He keeps the room dark. The radiator by the window is on low; a cold room is best these days. He likes to watch the goosebumps that prickle and form over his girls' skin. It disorients them too. It keeps him guessing: will they scream first, or will they cry, sometimes they cry and scream and cry again because human nature reverts to basic responses when in danger. It fascinates him. The weighing sense of predictability he gets when he does it. It gives him something to look forward to, a sense of routine that is almost comfortable in nature.

But this woman? He knows this woman will be different for him.

This was meant to be.

He fills the bathroom tub with hot water. For later, he reminds himself. After he dismantles her - not just physically, but figuratively. She will cease to become a person for herself. He likes that kind of control. 

"I'm excited," he says. Grins. Turns and faces the mirror too. Checks his smile again. He has bright teeth and a warm smile. The woman will remember him. " _Jessica_ ," he breathes.

He finishes filling the tub. Watches the steam float into the walls and then turns, entering the room again. He immediately moves to the window, drawing the curtains slowly. He counts some of the snowflakes like a child, breathing happily as the flakes become furious and heavy. Somewhat of delight to see.

When he turns towards the bed, he sighs. Happily even. She's there, eyes closed. Stretched out as if she were there with him all along. Her hair falls in waves and sinks into the pillow. There's a little bit of blood in the sheets, but her arms are bound together and tied tightly into a post. It's enough to hide it.

"Jessica," he sings. His voice is husky and soft. He reaches for a pair of gloves by the nightstand. "Jessica, darling."

He won't touch her yet, he thinks.

"Jessica."

When he sits by her body, the bed sighs into his weight. He studies her mouth. The serrated knife just won't do. He'll let her choose.

"Jess -"

Her eyes flutter open. Jessica makes a soft sound, her mouth puckering as she groans too. The man feels himself smile. He has to contain his excitement, he thinks. But he's mystified and awed when her eyes seem to warm to him.

A loud, wounded cry escapes her mouth.

"Oh, Jessica," he says. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you -"

She's fast. It's a blur. She jerks herself forward, ripping her arms from the post to hit him in the throat. He fumbles trying to catch her, his vision blurring as she jerks her body into his. He drags his heels into the carpet, if only to use his weight and keep the balance, but she loops her arms around his neck, closing her palms around his throat and digging her fingers into his skin.

The man screams.

They fall to the floor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They've brought her tea.

Seohyun coos with delight, wrapping her hand around the mug. She laughs a little when she sees her grade school emblem written into the ceramic cup, thumbing the lettering with amusement. It smells like lavender. Not her favorite. But she hasn't had good tea in years. For brief moment, there was that nurse that tried to bring her things. Even then though, it wasn't what she wanted.

She knows Taeyeon made her tea. She brings it to her lips and sips.

"Of course," she says, meeting Taeyeon's gaze. She swallows and the tea rolls against her throat. "Always predictable, Kim Taeyeon."

"Tell me where she _is_."

Seohyun stays smiling. She meets Taeyeon's gaze. She takes note of the bandaged hand, the dried blood that clings to some of the adhesive. Taeyeon had a rare temper; that much she remembers.

"In the most obvious place, of course." Seohyun rolls her. She drops her chin against her palm. She tests the waters. "Sooyeon-unnie is so much better at this game."

"Don't _say_ her name."

Taeyeon's eyes are dark. The intensity should be overwhelming. It used to be. Jessica and Taeyeon were overbearing at best, the weight between them was always too much to bear. If Seohyun had the capacity to love, this would be her concept of it, her starting point. 

"I can and I will," she says, practically daring Taeyeon. "You wanted me to help you."

Taeyeon slams her fists into the table. The hot water from Seohyun's tea slaps the rim of the cup. A second police officer appears from the corner. Another woman, Seohyun notes. Had gone largely unnoticed anyway. It's still Taeyeon's anger that simmers in the small room. It tightens the tension between the two of them.

"Every minute we sit here, we waste time," Taeyeon growls. "Not just time, but Jessica's time. This man is unpredictable. He's created a mess. A fucked-up mess that has destroyed people's lives. That taken away daughters from families. Friends. I don't care why you came out. I don't care that you're here. You're going back. You know you're going to go back. So stop wasting my goddamn _time_ and help us. So we can close the damn door again and move on."

Seohyun is quiet. She pretends to weigh her options, watching Taeyeon's anger grow. Her hands have curled into fists. The chair she occupies continues to scrape back and forth. She tilts her head. This is how you'll lose one day, she thinks. It might not be today. It might not be this case. But Taeyeon wears her weaknesses right on the surface.

So she laughs.

Seohyun laughs and laughs and laughs. She laughs so hard she starts to cry, dropping her head over her cuffed hands and heaving through her manic amusement. She hears Taeyeon curse. She can practically picture what happens next: Taeyeon leans forward to grab her, expression blanketed in pure rage, the cop behind her yelling out. But Seohyun is better, faster and she jerks herself up to her feet, grabbing Taeyeon by the throat and twisting her into the table. It screeches and screams and the second cop is trying to grab her.

"I'm not going to kill you." Seohyun is calm, digging her thumb into Taeyeon's pulse. "You don't listen." Her mouth twists and she leans in, brushing a kiss against her forehead. "Nor do you see what's right in front of you. This isn't complicated; it's obvious. And I bet -" she sings, loosening her grip as the woman curses, groping at her face. Seohyun turns her head. "I bet Jessica hasn't left the hotel. I bet she's been there all along."

She's ripped off of Taeyeon and slammed into the observation window, laughing delightedly as Taeyeon curls and drops from the table. She's coughing, gripping her throat.

This, Seohyun thinks, is how she helps.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jessica bursts through the hotel room door.

The man manages to grab at her. Still coughing, he trips and grips her ankle. It causes her to stumble into the carpet. He tries to drag himself over her, but Jessica jams her foot into his face with a cry.

He feels the pain with grunt. His hands clap over and he rolls to his side, trying to rub the pain off so he can grab her again while groping for a knife he left on the desk. They always run. The difference is that Jessica fights. It simultaneously infuriates him and excites him. He manages to stumble onto his feet, following her into the hall. Take your time, he coaches himself. Don't play with your food.

"They won't believe you!"

This new floor is practically empty, the hotel staff told him. It was cleared out by a wedding, but the wedding was cancelled and the party never showed up. You and your girlfriend have the floor to yourselves tonight, they said too. By then, he had carried Jessica in, laughing and explaining that she had hurt her ankle on a walk and had fallen asleep in the car. Luckily, the elevator is away from the room, down another hallway. There is a service elevator too, but that's locked; he tried. He made it to the stairwell at one point, but knows that the chase will be controlled by the injury on the back of her head.

The man hears her hit the wall, pounding on doors. "I haven't picked our story yet," he continues. "This is exciting - usually, I've ended it by now. I've been trying to perfect my smiles, you see."

He reaches her. She's close to the stairwell, but only made it a couple doors down from his room. He grabs Jessica with a fistful of her hair and yanks her head back. She cries out and flails, her hand bucking into his face. Her nails scrape into his mouth and he tastes the blood.

"Screw you," she hisses. She hits the wall. "Screw _you_."

The man wastes no time and slams his knife into her thigh. To handicap the hunt. He'd rather keep this to their room. 

"Be a good girl," he singsongs. 

Blood is everywhere. Jessica stumbles and tries to hold herself out of reach, grasping at the wall. He cocks his head to the side to watch her. She's strong, he admires. Her jeans are covered in blood though.

He reaches for her then, but Jessica swings her leg back. Hits him in the stomach with her foot. The heel of her palm comes next, right into his nose and it snaps, causing him to fall back. He cries out and Jessica runs again, her hands pushing into the stairwell door that is near by. Her fingers smear blood into the walls and door and he watches, struggling to breathe as the door swings shut.

It's the seventeenth floor.

She can't make it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The SWAT unit leaves heavy boot prints in the snow.

Taeyeon is in front. Moonbyul remains her second while the rest of their unit rounds up the back. When they enter the hotel, guns drawn, security meets them halfway. Identifies Jessica both as a customer and from a photo, relay an incident from the night before. Something about Jessica's ankle and her _very nice_ boyfriend who carried her to their room, asleep.

This part of the job is hit and a miss: the adrenaline is always worrying, lodged deeply in Taeyeon's throat as the team splits into two and climbs each floor in separate elevators. Taeyeon counts the numbers in her head. One. Two. Three. She's never wanted to kill someone like this, to the point where it etches itself into the very fiber of her being. It's personal and with that, everything changes.

"Sunbae."

Taeyeon blinks, gun drawn again as they exit the elevator. Both teams slide quietly into an empty hallway. Moonbyul spots the blood first, frowning deeply as she touches it.

"Sunbae," Moonbyul says again. She meets Taeyeon's gaze. "It's fresh."

The secondary team bursts into the room that was rented by the man. He's a banker. There was a name. Jongwook. But she half-expects it to be a fake. It would make the most sense. _Don't think_ , Jessica is in her head. _Maybe we're complicating things_. Taeyeon studies the blood on the walls, ignoring her heart shoving itself into her throat. She might be shaking; she can't think about that.

"The room is empty," the SWAT leader calls.

Taeyeon ignores him, following the trail of blood towards the door to the stairs. At the door, there is a large, bloodied handprint. Her heart clenches and screams. She jerks herself into a run, Moonbyul yelling orders as she follows her too.

It can't be too late. She'll never forgive herself if it's too late.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The laundry room is poorly lit.

Machines are working. One moans and jerks to a stop, the door popping open as the man kicks Jessica into the glass. The color of her skin is pale. The man is angry now - this isn't how this is supposed to go. She wasn't supposed to fight like this.

"I'm going to have to kill you now," he says, sadly even. He wears his disappointment clearly. "We won't even have time to play."

Jessica swings her legs underneath him. It causes him to drop backwards. His head hits the concrete hard and his knife falls from his hand, skirting across the floor. He grabs her though, yanking her down beside him. He tries to pull his weight over her, but she shoves at him, twisting out of his grip to crawl to the knife.

She's fast, but he still has the weight. He has hand iron grip around her leg. He's a little clumsy, but digs his fingers into her injury, coating his fingers with her blood. It's soft and warm and she screams out in pain.

"You were a pretty girl." He pushes himself over her. "I'm disappointed that I didn't get to enjoy that."

He'll never forget the mix of fear and rage in Jessica's eyes, how pure it is, how it was more than he wanted - still, it's fascinating to see such an explosive range of emotion on someone. It unnerves him a little, he thinks. So it's time to end it.

The man twists a little, trying to reach for the knife. It must have fallen somewhere around them; their bodies twist and she's pegged underneath him, allowing for some kind of control. Jessica pushing a hand at his face, trying to fight him still. He gives up on the knife then, wraps a hand around her throat and slowly, just slowly, starts to put pressure on her windpipe. It'll be quick, of course. A little cleaner than earlier. It makes up for his plans being ruined.

"Now, you'll stay with me this way," he says.

He swears he sees gold flecks in Jessica's eyes. Maybe a reflection of the poor lighting her. Maybe not. He listens to her breathing start to slow, her hands groping the floor next to her. The last struggle, of course.

Then he hears it.

A crack, then a snap, and a heavy pressure building at his throat. The pain is almost surreal, spreading from his throat, to his neck, and face. He touches the side of his neck and his skin is cold, maybe wet. Or it's sticky. He doesn't know. His eyes still go wide and his grip around Jessica's throat loosens. There's a second sound, but he doesn't know how to recognize it. Instead, the scent of gun powder fills his nose and he wants to vomit. He doesn't like guns. He never has.

But his eyes feel heavy and Jessica is still looking at him with that same, intense fury. It's never wavered. Not once. It makes him tired. Or greedy. Or both. It doesn't matter.

Someone yells. Boots hit the ground in thunderous applause. 

Finally, the man's eyes close.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Confession -

Taeyeon has never liked hospitals. How they smell. How bright their walls are. Hospitals carry an enormous amount of guilt and ghosts, to the point where it becomes more than unbearable. Right now, she's just exhausted.

"Coffee."

She looks up. Soojung greets her with a tired, tight smile. She shoves the coffee in Taeyeon's hand and takes the seat next to her. The dark circles under her eyes are heavy and fill Taeyeon with a tremendous sense of guilt. It's painful. But Jessica's younger sister is a doctor, just as excellent and much more contained, which is probably why she works in Emergency medicine. She doesn't ask why she's not in the operating room. Knows full well that if it were her sister, she would be unable to be in there too.

"She should be out soon," Soojung says. The blue of her scrubs make Taeyeon's stomach churn. "She's lost a lot of blood," Soojung continues. Smiles tightly. "Once she's out and stabilized, we'll move her into a private room. Jongdae is in there with her."

Taeyeon breathes.

She drops her face into her hands. She almost cries. Then and there. Unravels in that hallway. It's late and the crowd is sparse. There is a pregnant couple. An old man with a broken hip. Odds and ends, really. 

"I'm sorry," she croaks.

Soojung shakes her head. "Honestly, I'd rather not hear it. Actually, if you stayed to apologize, you should go. Because apologies don't belong here. Apologies mean you're about to panic and run away. What happened, happened, and the two of you need to move forward. Together or apart. I don't know and frankly? I don't care." She rubs her eyes. "So if you're here to do that, unnie, then it's time for you to leave. If not, get it together. You want to fix things? Be better than this."

Taeyeon swallows and says nothing.

The two of them sit there for a long time. Quietly. Not looking at each other. Soojung barely touches her coffee. Taeyeon finishes hers and leaves the empty cup by her boots. She's still covered in blood, in _Jessica's_ blood. Her hands stretch and tremble. She is afraid to close her eyes; she doesn't want to see the last couple of hours play out anymore.

At some point, the other doctor, Jongdae, comes out and greets them. Kisses Soojung on the forehead. Explains something about Jessica's recovery and what's going to happen in the next couple of hours. She'll rest. She'll wake up. _We'll need to be there for her_. The same, kind things that most of these doctors say to families. How the police reassure families. It's all one in the same.

But Taeyeon stands. Jerks up into straighten herself. Her body moans and cracks and she shoves her dirty hands into her jacket pockets. Her expression darkens and hides. She meets Soojung's gaze and ignores her expression.

"I'll stop by in the morning," she says. Her shoulders are tighten and drawn. Taeyeon doesn't recognize the sound of her own voice. It still remains heavy and even. "We'll have to talk about next steps."

Soojung tightens her jaw. "Sure."

Taeyeon nods at her, then at Jessica's doctor, twisting her fingers into her jacket. When she turns, she's greeted by another long, drawn hallway. She keeps her shoulders drawn back. Ignores her hands as they tremble. She repeats a mantra. There are people. It's not empty. Jessica is safe. It's time to move on.

That's the lie.

She walks away.


	8. love me the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You are in a hospital room, she tells herself._
> 
> There's a reason why everyone leaves. Unfortunately, Jessica's never been one to listen.

-

 

 

 

Jessica opens her eyes.

"Unnie," Soojung greets, gently, from somewhere against her side. Jessica makes a fist with her hand and then relaxes, her fingers groping for some stability in her sheets. " _Unnie_."

It happens slowly: you are in a hospital room, she tells herself, since it's the only thing she can tell herself, her vision adjusting to low, kind lights and the wisps of curtains holding back the sunlight. Her throat feels dry. She panic-coughs, gripping her throat and then hissing, feeling the small, tender marks stretching in her skin. She shifts in the bed, hoping to turn to her side but a sharp, intense pain opens and crawls against her thigh; she mews out, her eyes blurring with tears.

" _Water_ ," she gasps.

Her sister leans forward. She grabs a pitcher from a side table, pouring some water in a glass. She helps Jessica sit up with one arm, shifting onto the bed as she feeds her water.

"You're okay," Soojung says. "You're safe."

"How long -"

"You've been in and out for the last forty-eight hours," her sister relays. Soojung gently pats her back. "You sustained a few lacerations and the injury on your thigh is deep, but mostly superficial. You'll be able to recover if you manage it well."

Soojung says _forty-eight_ hours and it carries too much weight. A montage of thoughts play in Jessica's mind: the man, the cab they took back to the hotel, the groves the rope made into her wrists. She swallows back bile that starts to rise, squeezing her eyes shut. This isn't her first close call, but it still remains engrained in her mind as if it were her first close call.

"Is that all you know?" 

Jessica's hands are trembling, but she takes the water glass from her sister's hands. She finishes her water, pressing her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Her throat hurts, but it's much more manageable with water. She thinks of Taeyeon. Then she stops.

"That's all I know." Soojung presses her lips together. "At least, that's what they told me."

Jessica sighs. "I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I never wanted you to see me like this."

"Don't be stupid," Soojung snaps. Jessica meets her sister's gaze. Her eyes are hard, her mouth drawn into a thin line. "I see a lot of things on a daily basis," her sister mutters, shaking her head. "I work in the damn ER. See you though... that was the worst. I still don't think I really processed it. You were there and I just -"

There is an immense weight of guilt that drops when Soojung starts to cry quietly and Jessica finds herself turning carefully, grasping Soojung's face between her hands. A shaky sigh leaves her mouth and she ignores the pain in her leg as she turns, twisting to take Soojung into her arm. Her thumb brushes at the tears she can catch and she hears herself murmur at her sister: _i'm sorry_ , _i'm okay_. It's the only honest thing she can use to placate her sister.

After all, she thinks, there is no such thing as the _right thing_ to say in this. 

The monsters don't live under the bed anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Irene sends flowers.

It's a cool, calculating way of charging into an end. _get well soon!_ sings the card; Jessica still calls her, gets a voicemail, and hangs up, knowing that if they are going to talk again, they'll talk when Irene is ready to talk, on a timeline that might not even belong to them anymore. This trip, she thinks, has been nothing more than an omen, a strange one, and it's sort of terrifying to face the unknown that it's presented to her, things that haven't changed, things that she thought she had left behind.

"Hey."

Jessica looks up. Taeyeon stands in the doorway, gripping a bouquet of tulips like her life depends on it. Next to her, Moonbyul holds a tray of coffees. Neither are smiling. Jessica drops her phone into the bed.

"Hi." Her voice still feels a little scratchy. Moonbyul steps forward first, handing her a coffee. "Thank you," she says quietly. Smiles too. She brings the cup to her mouth, swallowing. It's a little too sweet, but she breathes in the normalcy.

"How are you feeling?" Moonbyul asks.

"Like I got stabbed."

Taeyeon chokes, sitting in the chair next to her bed. She sits the tulips on the nightstand, awkwardly fussing over the placement. Moonbyul laughs with delight, leaning against the wall by the other flowers.

"I'm glad you're still you," Taeyeon says, then means, looking away before Jessica looks at her. She rubs her eyes. "We'll have to get a statement before we leave. I understand the prosecutor also wants to you take a secondary glance over some evidence."

Jessica leans back into her pillows. "Is he dead?"

Both Taeyeon and Moonbyul look surprised that she is even asking. Jessica remains serious though; memories of the past week have come back in harsh spurts, reiterated by the deep groves around her wrists from the rope and the marks in her throat. Alone in her room, she still smells the man, the sweet, sickly smell that brushed against her nose every time he got close to her.

Taeyeon touches her knuckles. "He's in a coma."

"Of course."

"The prognosis isn't good," Moonbyul adds. "You stabbed him, one of our officers shot him twice. There are a lot of fake names we have to comb through and they're running prints -"

"So he's a ghost?" Jessica asks, mystified. She stares at Taeyeon and then drops her gaze to the blankets on her bed. Her fingers curl into them and she pulls at a few threads. "He's a ghost," she repeats softly. A flash of the cab he shoved her into happens. She smells cigarette smoke. It's a visceral memory; it melts into something else, the sensation of his jacket rubbing into her face, the way he told the driver about how she was sick and it was _his_ fault, that he pushed her too much.

Taeyeon touches her wrist. "One thing at a time," she murmurs.

"Easier said than done."

"You're too hard on yourself."

Moonbyul snorts. "The two of you are the worst," she interjects. 

She pushes away from the wall, putting a coffee next to Taeyeon. The latter looks embarrassed, intense, and maybe slightly amused. They share a look; Jessica doesn't miss it.

"I'm going to go call my wife downstairs. I'll meet you when you're ready, Sunbae." Moonbyul smiles too. She waves the two of them off. "See you around, Dr. Jung."

They wait until Moonbyul leaves. Jessica wraps both hands around her coffee cup again, brushing her thumb against the lid. It catches under her nail and clicks. Her mouth purses together. The sudden, immediate silence makes her uneasy. 

Next to her, Taeyeon sags into her chair.

"I wish I could say something profound."

Jessica snorts. "Please don't."

"You know what I mean." Taeyeon rubs her eyes. Then she laughs sharply. "There are a lot of things that I want to say, but I don't know where to begin, or how to begin, or why I even feel this way. Because it's stupid, you know. And personal. And I'm furious, _furious_ that I wasn't the one that shot the guy because he took you -"

Jessica clasps a hand over Taeyeon's mouth. Watches her as her eyes widen with surprise. Jessica's coffee jerks against her other hand, hits the rim and seeps a little of its cup. She doesn't care though. For a moment, they just sit like this. Staring at each other. She breathes in. Taeyeon breathes out. Then in; Jessica sighs in tandem.

This, she thinks. These feelings. They never left her.

"This wasn't your fault." She quietly brings her hand away from Taeyeon's mouth. "I promise you." Jessica still repeats it: "This wasn't your fault. Don't go there. Don't even put yourself in front of those feelings; they're like a firing squad. And I know you, Kim Taeyeon. I know it'll eat away at you and you will pull further and further into whatever dark corners you hide behind these days. So: this wasn't your fault."

"I want him _dead_." The words are dull out of Taeyeon's mouth. Her eyes flash and then she looks away. "And that scares me too," Taeyeon replies. "He hurt you and I want him dead."

Jessica shakes her head. "You can't go there."

"Can't I? I see the worst of people. I see people crawl out of dark corners and they do terrible things. Like this guy. Like Seohyun -" Taeyeon pauses, swallowing. "Monsters are everywhere, you know? They take the faces of strangers, of people you love, and the most terrifying part is that I couldn't control the situation again."

There is a confession in there, but Jessica is exhausted, maybe confused, too much of both to really sort through whatever it is that Taeyeon is trying to say to her. This happened the last time; they both said too much of the same thing, _things can be better apart_ without alluding to much of anything else.

Still though, she reaches out and touches Taeyeon's wrist. Her fingers linger, but she draws back and sink into her pillows. She drops her hand into the blankets, over her thigh and she starts to rub away the slow, dull pain.

"Stop," she says. She shakes her head. "Don't go to a place where I can't follow you again."

It's like a game, you know, who is going to look away first. It's not something she's proud of, but Taeyeon swallows and Jessica can only think of the man and monsters, the ones that live in the back of her mind. This is dangerous, she thinks. Here, there's nothing to hide behind.

Jessica looks away first.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A momentary truth -

Irene's voice is really, really pretty on the phone. Jessica digs out the last voicemail sometime, later that night. It's two minutes long; she is afraid to listen, but not afraid, it's more like facing the disappointment and understanding that she became the very same person she never wanted to be in the relationship, weighed down by a past and her job.

"I'm glad you're okay," Irene says gently. A car horn goes off. "Listen, I'm going to be angry with you for awhile. This is really painful and ridiculous and while I'm just _furious_ at you, I'm also relieved and devastated that you went through that." There is a pause and Jessica listens to Irene exhale shakily. "I also know that I won't be able to handle you going through that and I know, deep down, that it's part of the job and I'm more likely to die a la an apple core falling from a really tall building than a serial killer..." Irene sighs. "I can't do that. I can't know that you deal with scary, scary people and I... won't be enough to hold you up."

It's the small things that devastate the most.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For the record, this is her idea.

The Institution grounds are beautiful.

It's almost eerie: a warm week gives a false sense of spring to the area, the grass bright and green underneath a sky that stretches and weaves in between the boney hands of the trees around the property. There are still holiday decorations, forgotten of course; pieces of holly tucked into window frames and hedges.

Jessica sits on a bench, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets. Next to her, Seohyun sits too; cuffed and smiling, breathing in the air with an exaggerated sigh. Behind them, Taeyeon and Moonbyul hover, kept company by two new guards assigned to Seohyun since her escape from the property. Seohyun's hands are still folded neatly in her lap.

"Thank you," she says, sighing again. "It was beginning to feel stuffy in my room."

"It might be like that for awhile." She could say things like: _I know how you feel_ because she should still be in her hospital room, not a couple of hours away, on an excursion that was only supposed to be a walk around the hospital. But Seohyun is not her friend. Hasn’t been for years.

This is still her idea. Possibly, a gamble. Jessica feels comfortably alert; it’s a dangerous reassurance.

"I had hoped for a window at _least_. Sensory torture and all of that." Seohyun grins. "My doctor refuses to see me without my two body guards. I supposed I'll have to get used to it."

Jessica shakes her head. "It was the agreement made to keep you here."

Her debit is paid too, Jessica thinks. Seohyun's adventure into the outside world remains an unspoken mark in their history; in some respects, Jessica might say that the younger woman saved her life. But that comes with motives and maybe, it's something that will have to remain untouched. For everyone's sake.

"Is he dead?"

Jessica blinks. The question is strangely unexpected but not. Her body is tense, her shoulders straight and sharp. 

"Yes," she murmurs. Jessica rubs her eyes. "Two nights ago. He died in a coma. One of the officers shot him in the back of his neck. I managed to miss his artery though."

"You sound disappointed." Seohyun is amused. "Now that you've had a taste."

" _Stop_ ," Jessica snaps. Her heels dig into the ground. "It's not like that."

"Isn't it? You've toed the line for so long, you know. Once you dip into that deep, dark place you'll never be the same again."

This, there. She understands what Seohyun is trying to say. It's laced with no malicious intent. Seohyun is always curious, has always been curious, and that is part of why she is still incredibly dangerous to everyone. Jessica meets her gaze this way, her mouth thinning into a tight line, then relaxing as her hands unfold against her legs.

"I guess not," she says. She looks away, out into the grounds. "I'll have this scar for the rest of my life." She shrugs. "It's not the first one, not the last one, and it won't change me..." She tucks her hair behind her ear. "Maybe if we had this conversation when you first put in here, I would have said different things. But I don't regret fighting, I don't regret chasing him, and I don't regret finding answers for those girls. Even if they're the ones that people don't like."

Seohyun laughs. "I always knew you'd save yourself," she says.

The words are striking. They make her uneasy and Jessica looks up at Seohyun, surprised, even as she stands and waves to her two guards. There is a smile fixed onto her mouth, bright and sunny, It makes the entirety of her presence unmanageable, out of place even, as if this were coffee at the park and not a supervised visit, maybe the only supervised visit, that Seohyun will have for the next couple of years to come. She's still beautiful though, in an almost fantastical kind of way, surreal given the context of what's happened. There's a glow around her and when the light hits Seohyun, it's almost painful to see her like this. Jessica turns away, unable to watch her go back inside to her room. She listens as her boots sink into the grass, crunching a mess of snow and leaves.

A few minutes pass and Taeyeon comes to her side, dropping her hand over her shoulder.

"Are you all right?"

It's gotten colder, Jessica thinks. She doesn't answer either.

Instead, her hand rises and covers Taeyeon's hand on her shoulder. She sits quietly. Just for a moment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taeyeon brings her dinner to her hospital room.

"Your sister is pissed," she relays, "that I let you convince me to take you out today."

Jessica shrugs. "We were only gone for a few hours."

"Still," Taeyeon sighs. She hands her a carton of french fries, watching her rub her leg. "You might have over did it a little? I'm already on your sister's bad side and I just -"

"It's okay."

Jessica is quick to cut her off. Takes a bite of her french fry. Stares off to the side, still trying to process Seohyun. Her brain is fried. She feels like she's been segmented into some kind of haze. There are questions and answers, then more question and answers.

"Hey." Taeyeon jerks the chair by her bed closer. It scrapes into the bed. "It's over."

"I _know_ ," Jessica snaps. She watches Taeyeon wince. Feels a little guilty too. She groans, rubbing her eyes. "It's not about that. My head's a mess. I'm not really sure how to process any of this." You almost killed a man, she thinks. There is a reasonable, painful way to deal with that. She is trying not to self-analyze. But her hands are starting to shake. "All of this," she breathes, "was just too much. It was too much to say yes to you. My work was _sloppy_. I let my guard down -"

Jessica bursts into tears. It just _happens_. The tears stretch out over her eyes, just as her hand covers her mouth and she muffles a sob. She never cries. Not like this. Her throat cracks and it feels like something's just snapped, pushed itself out of her. The lose of control is exhausting. Her leg throbs and she turns her head, rubbing her leg.

Taeyeon is quiet when she climbs into the bed. She gently removes the food, pushing it onto the night stand. Her arm slides around Jessica's shoulders and she pulls her into her side. They sit like this: Jessica cries and cries and cries, pulling through the sludge of fears and disappointments, knowing full well that she couldn't control what happened to her, that half of this is her own doing. She hiccups into a cough, clutching Taeyeon's blouse, lacing her fingers into the spaces between buttons. She holds onto her as tightly as she can.

"We're a mess," Taeyeon says dryly.

Jessica chokes and laughs. "I'm barely managing." She doesn't have the energy to pull back. At least, this is what she tells herself. "My brain hurts. Between the replays of what happened, understanding what happened, and separating myself in between, my trip back, working - it all becomes too much... I didn't think I'd come back this way."

"No," Taeyeon agrees. "I didn't think you'd come back this way either."

Jessica tilts her head up, to look at her; she can't help it. Taeyeon looks down and returns her expression. It seems unreadable, maybe a little bit of mild curiosity. Her hand stretches out and she tucks a strand of hair behind Jessica's ear.

The moment is nothing profound: she just remembers, remembers how much she's loved Taeyeon, for what feels like her entire life, and to know that you love someone this way, is equal parts terrifying and heavy. Then she thinks _I haven't stopped_. There's no peace that comes with that; instead, she feels like she's split again, even further than before.

She leans in then, brushing her mouth against Taeyeon, kissing her quietly. Taeyeon's mouth softens in reply; they both seem to sigh. Jessica's shoulders sag and she slides her fingers underneath her chin, tipping it up before pulling back and away. The room is silent, warm, and the pressure is disappearing.

"You're going back."

Jessica opens her eyes. Her hand returns to her leg.

"For a little while," she murmurs. Maybe I need a vacation, she thinks. It wouldn’t be the right thing to say. Her mouth twists.

Taeyeon isn't surprised. "Will you come back?"

The right thing to say is _yes_. Yes, I'm coming back. Yes, you and I will have a second chance. Yes, I've loved you all this time - and to the point where I won't look back. She could say all these things, but the pain in her leg flares and twists, underneath the tips of her fingers. It responds in kind.

"I don't know," Jessica says.

For the first time, in what feels like forever, her shoulders drop back and she leans into Taeyeon. Her eyes flutter and Taeyeon’s fingers move into her hair, dragging her scalp. It lulls her to somewhere close to sleep, just at the edge, just enough where she adjusts her head against Taeyeon’s shoulder and they shift back into a groove folded into the pillows. 

Taeyeon’s mouth presses into Jessica’s hair.

They stay honest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sunglasses are tortoise-shell.

They sit on top of her day planner, right over Soojung's wedding invitation and tucked against a few magazines. There is no plan; it's the best thing. Jessica runs her fingers over the pair of sunglasses though, tracing the pattern. She likes the color. There are no cracks.

It's a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, _thank you_!
> 
> For all your kind comments. For cheering me on. For seriously sticking it through - all the way to the end. It's been so much fun writing this, indulging in my ever-present (and let's be honest, never going away...) love of cop dramas. I'm pretty sure I'm re-watching the first God's Quiz for the 80th time. Anyways, thanks again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I think it's no secret that I really, really love Cop AUs.
> 
> And also, that I'm watching six of them on Netflix. I'm not going to be to verbose. This definitely going to be long. Around 6-8 parts. So hopefully y'all will stick with me!


End file.
